Fall to Pieces
by skygirl55
Summary: Collapsing down against her calves, Kate's neck hung forward and her shoulders hunched as sobs began resonating in her diaphragm. In less than one minute her entire future had been erased—evaporated and disappeared as if it never existed. Angsty AU Ending to Cops & Robbers (4x07)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Can there be too many AU versions of Cops & Robbers? I think not. :)_

 _ **WARNING** : Minor character death_

 _10 chaps + Epilogue_

* * *

 **ONE**

"We're missing something. I'm telling you, sir, this doesn't add up. The C-4, the murder. Something just isn't-"

The words were stolen from Kate Beckett's lips by a series of explosions.

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

The reverberations slammed into her chest like a solid first to her sternum. The SWAT van rattled and rocked so much that she could not steady herself just by reaching out for the nearby desk. Her ankles wobbled and she managed to turn and press her back against the wall to slide down into a sitting position rather that outright falling like some of her colleagues.

 _Bang. Bang_.

The blasts were heard again only that time the sound intensified. The entire van shuttered and trembled, pitching back and forth as though it were on a ship in the middle of the sea. The vicious reaction didn't make sense. Even if the C-4 inside the bank exploded at different times, the blast should have been over in under a few seconds, but the noise was still deafening.

Bracing herself between the wall and floor of the SWAT van Kate momentarily wondered if the explosion had triggered some sort of Manhattan earthquake. Such an event surely would have been unheard of, but that could have been one of a few viable explanations. That or the blast caused fissures in the earth and those holes were growing larger and larger, swallowing them whole.

Twenty seconds after the initial blast, the van felt its first impact. The sound made it seem as though someone was dropping anvils atop the van from a great distance. On instinct, Kate brought her knees in, tucked her forehead against them, and cupped her hands at the back of her neck. This was the brace position she learned over her many years of life but assumed she would never need to use.

 _Thud. Thud. Smack. Thud._

The van was pelted again and again with debris. From what, she didn't know; she couldn't even think. The noise was so loud. The ground was still rattling. Nothing made sense.

With another _crunch_ the van rocked and pitched to one side. Kate presumed one of the tires had been popped. Were the bank robbers escaping? Shooting out the tires and launching grenades at the vehicle? Would one second longer find them burning up in a wall of flames?

As the avalanche on the SWAT van persisted past the one minute mark, Kate hugged her legs tighter, still trying to conceptualize what was happening outside. The nagging thought in her mind was: how did a bunch of bank robbers procure enough C-4 to cause an earthquake in Manhattan? But she only thought about that to distract herself from the terrifying reality. If the SWAT van was getting this battered then the state of the bank in which Castle and his mother were hostages could not be good. Not at all.

After nearly ninety seconds, the shaking began to subside. The anvils—or whatever they were—battering the SWAT van smacked down only occasionally, and the surrounding world fell silent save for Peterson's proclamation of, "What the fuck was that?"

With trembling extremities, Kate groped for the top of the closest desk to hoist herself up into a standing position. She took a moment to gaze around the SWAT van at the equally perplexed expressions of her coworkers, before taking a tentative step forward and placing her hand on the handle of the exit door. Though distantly she heard someone say, "Don't! We don't know what's out there!" she ignored them and pushed open the door.

Kate remained in the doorway when the gag-inducing smoke met her lungs. She covered her hand over her mouth and turned away from the door, sucking in the fresh, debris-free air. Her eyes seared from the air particles poking against them; she could even feel the grit in her mouth, but she was not deterred. With one more gulp of clean air, Kate stumbled out into the unknown.

With her hand resting against the smooth metal surface of the vehicle, she inched her way forward and cracked open one eye. The searing pain returned and the eye flipped with tears, but it didn't make much difference; she could see nothing. Immediately outside the van was a cloud of debris so thick she struggled to even see her hand two feet from her face

Coughing and spluttering, her mouth now filled with iron-flavored sand, she took a few steps away from the van in a desperate attempt to get away from the cloud. At one point, she coughed so hard that she doubled over, hands against her thighs, and dry heaved. Fortunately, due to the stress of the hostage situation, she had not eaten anything and thus had nothing to vomit.

Using the back of her wrist she cleared away the moisture seeping from beneath her eyelids and tried to crack open her eyes again. That time, her boots against the ground came in to view and she realized with great relief that the cloud had begun to dissipate. She blinked rapidly, stroking the back of her wrist against her eyelids again and again to clear the soot from her tear ducts. Once she felt her vision was about as clear as it was going to be, she spun on the spot until the van was to her right and that meant she was facing the bank building. Or, rather, facing where the bank building was, because in front of her there was nothing but a massive pile of rubble.

A strangled scream escaping her lips, Kate fell to her knees on the street. The shock to her patella did not even register in her mind; she went instantly numb. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces just like the concrete building around her.

New Amsterdam Bank and Trust was gone; decimated beyond recognition by bank robbers masquerading as doctors. Chunks of the building façade were strewn across the street, many of them surrounding the now-devastated SWAT van. The former bank had no windows, no walls, and no structure whatsoever. What remained of the crumbling concrete smoked and hissed and, if she was not mistaken, flames could be seen licking out one side of the rubble.

Whatever or whoever was inside the bank at the time of the blast had surely been crushed by the hundreds of thousands of pounds of rubble crashing down on them. That was assuming the shock waves from the blast itself did not destroy them instantly. If her ears were ringing and body battered from being half a block away, the prospect of survivors seemed unfathomable.

Survivors. No survivors. No one had survived.

Richard Castle had been inside that bank; Richard Castle had not survived.

Collapsing down against her calves, Kate's neck hung forward and her shoulders hunched as sobs began resonating in her diaphragm. In less than one minute her entire future had been erased—evaporated and disappeared as if it never existed.

Richard Castle was gone and with him he took her future. There would be no happy ending for them, no ever after. She wouldn't get to braid the hair of a lovely girl who had all her features save for her father's sparkling blue eyes. She wouldn't chase after a mischievous little boy who most days made her want to tear her hair out, but always melted her heart when he smiled. There would be no Christmases snuggled in front of warm fires or Fourth of July celebrations in the Hamptons.

She had not realized until that exact moment just how intertwined her future was with the writer's inside of her own mind. She was going to therapy. They were still figuring things out and finding their footing after once again spending the summer apart. Yet, deep down, she had made her choice; her heart had found her 'one and done' before her brain ever realized.

Castle drove her crazy and on the line between wanting to smack him and wanting to kiss him, she resided on the former more often than she would have liked. But Castle was also sweet and kind. He made her smile and laugh like she hadn't since before her mother passed away. He was fun and he kept her away from the dark, which was just one of the many reasons her feelings for him were so deep.

She loved him and now he was gone and he'd never get to know how very much he meant to her.

As Kate lifted her head and the ringing in her ears began to fade, visions of their moments together filtered in through her mind. Arresting him in the New York Public Library. Slow dancing as a ruse for talking, his warm hand splayed across her back. The feeling of his hand on her shoulder as she watched the life bleed out of the only man who could give her the name of her mother's killer. Being rescued, naked, from the bathtub of her burning apartment by his strong embrace. The agony of watching him walk away just as she almost confessed feelings for him she wasn't sure even she understood. The heart-seizing fear as she raced into a hotel room unsure if he'd been the victim of a crazed serial killer. Staring into his eyes in a Los Angeles hotel room and knowing she was unequivocally in love with him.

Their first and only kiss, meant to be a stunt but in actuality one of the most real moments she'd ever had in her life.

And the four little words that kept her heart beating despite the fact that a bullet was inside of it.

 _I love you, Kate_.

Slowly, the world came back in to focus and Kate began to hear distinct sounds instead of just a nonsensical roar. People yelling, frantic screaming. The chirp of police cruiser trying to make its way through a crowd. The distant sound of sirens from the fire department.

Her colleagues had begun to filter out of what remained of the SWAT van and they let out curses and gasps upon seeing the wreckage.

"We have to look for survivors!"

"Survivors? Shit, there aren't any survivors; we've got to keep our men back, who knows what could collapse next."

"Kate! Kate!"

The sound of her name filtering through the chaos finally shocked the detective back to reality. Using her hands against her thighs she forced herself to stand and turned back towards the gathering crowd. During the blast, they'd all stumbled back against the buildings across the street. The uniformed officers were working diligently to keep the now desperate and frantic crowd at bay. They were moving security barriers back further, but people were reluctant to move. Among those people was Alexis. She stood at the absolute edge of a barrier, an officer trying to push her back, but she hung out over the edge as far as she could, distress evident on her face.

Oh god, oh god; Alexis. Her entire family was in the bank and now—now they were gone in just one instant. She had been so worried all morning, but Kate continually promised it would be okay. Those promises had not been empty; she truly thought it would be. Or, perhaps, she _needed_ to think they would be and so she had made the girl a promise as a way of comforting herself. Whatever the reason, she could not go back and change it; they needed to deal with the present.

Alexis's father was gone, as was her grandmother. The girl was only seventeen—technically a minor. When the dust settled on everything, she would be placed in the custody of child protective services. Fortunately for the girl, her eighteenth birthday was in a matter of weeks. Kate knew this because it was one of the things the writer persistently mentioned—that his little girl was going to be, at least in legal terms, an adult. If Alexis's eighteenth birthday was less than one month away, she probably had leeway when it came to CPS. The emancipation process would take too long; her birthday would come before she even got a court date. All she'd need was a temporary guardian.

Despite perhaps being not the most organized individual at times, Castle was always diligent when it came to Alexis. The subject had come up once after a rather dangerous case of theirs and Castle had mentioned that per his will his mother would take custody of Alexis if something happened to him. Unfortunately, Martha had been inside the bank with Castle, which meant custody would need to go to the next person listed.

Meredith seemed the only logical choice, but she was all the way in California. Alexis was in the middle of her senior year in high school. After losing a parent, being forced to uproot and move literally the entire way across the country seemed too cruel of a fate.

No, Kate wouldn't let that happen; it didn't even feel like a choice or obligation—just something that was. She decided then and there that she would keep Alexis—assuming she wanted to stay with Kate. Then, she could stay in the city, finish out her senior year and remain with her friends; it's what Rick would have wanted. But they didn't need to decide on that then; there were more dire issues at stake.

With a deep breath, Kate walked across the debris filled road and stopped in front of Alexis. For fifteen seconds she merely shook her head, at a complete loss for words. She didn't know what to say to the girl to make it better; what could possibly make it better? Nothing. As she knew all too well what it was like to lose a parent, she knew that nothing could ever make it better.

"Kate?" Alexis finally said, small uptick at the end of her statement

A single tear slipping down her cheek, the detective rasped out, "I'm so sorry, Alexis."

"No! No!" The girl cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks as well. "You said they'd be okay—you promised!"

She had promised that, but that was before—back when she thought the men inside the bank were run-of-the-mill bank robbers not suicidal maniacs. Then again, perhaps they had not meant to kill themselves along with their hostages. She felt it reasonably safe to assume they had not meant to level the entire block, otherwise what would have been the point of negotiating? Maybe they were just run-of-the-mill bank robbers—only not very smart. But once again, it didn't matter; nothing could not undo the explosion.

"I am so sorry, I never thought this would…this would happen."

"They—they could still be alive in there; you don't know that."

Kate faltered from pure shock at Alexis's statement. Surely, she did not need to explain why it was painfully obvious that the building's occupants had not survived. There was no building left! Yes, it was true, survivors had been pulled from similarly decimated areas before, but those were incredibly rare situations and generally did not involve high volumes of explosives. She just didn't want the girl to have an excessive amount of false hope; it would only hurt more later on. "Alexis-"

"No." The red-head stubbornly folded her arms over her chest, refusing to hear any arguments to the contrary. "They could make it. They have to make it."


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Kate managed to hold herself together emotionally until her partners showed up. The moment Ryan and Esposito encased her in a group hug, her bottom lip began to tremble and the tears began to flow. They both expressed how sorry they were; Ryan even appeared to be crying a bit himself. Mostly, though, they just stood in silence, too shocked to process what had happened.

"I just don't understand," Ryan said finally. "None of this makes any sense."

"Shit like this never does, bro." Esposito commented.

Her devastated haze momentarily fading, Kate's cop brain surged back to life. "No, the case—we have to think about the case. You know Castle; he'd want us to figure out the story even though he's—" She cut herself off short and cleared her throat, ridding her voice of emotion. "Even though he's not here."

"What story? Everyone's dead."

Kate bobbed her head. "Including Agnes Fields—we haven't yet connected her to any of this. Did you find anything before I called you?"

"We left a message for her former son-in-law, Ron Brandt. He does a lot of business overseas, though; might not even be in the country." Ryan explained. He pulled out his phone and displayed a DMV picture on the screen. "He does have a penthouse on the Upper East Side though so we-"

"Wait." Kate cut him off, looking closer at the screen. "Is this him? Ron Brandt?" When Ryan nodded she shook her head. "No, no—this is Sal Martino—the man who had a seizure in the bank. I gave him to the EMTs myself!"

The male detectives exchanged looks. "He was one of the hostages?"

"Yeah, he was in there and—oh God!" Kate proclaimed when the horrifying realization hit her. "He was in on it; he orchestrated this whole thing."

"Including getting out of the bank before it blew to kingdom come." Esposito cursed under his breath.

Sal—Ron—whoever he was had been in front of them the whole time—the whole time! Now he was god only knew where. If he faked the seizure, she imagined he had not suck around at the hospital for very long. He's killed dozens and he was in the wind. Her steely gaze returning, Kate turned to her partners. "I want you guys to turn over every rock until you find this guy."

Ryan nodded. "We'll call it in to dispatch. I'm sure they can get another team to-"

"No. You."

Ryan looked tentatively at Esposito, who conveyed his thoughts to their female colleague. "Don't you need us here, Beckett?"

She stepped up to them. "I need you to find the man responsible for killing Castle, Martha, and everyone else inside that bank building. You—both of you. You're the ones I trust to do this, because you've got stake in it; you'll get it done."

"Okay." Esposito agreed.

"What are you going to do Beckett?" Ryan asked hesitantly.

Kate glanced over her shoulder at the wreckage. The fire department crew that had been spraying the area with water for the prior twenty minutes appeared to be cleaning up. Now, rescue and recovery crews had been brought in along with heavy equipment so they could begin the delicate—but critical—task of sifting through the rubble.

"I need to stay here."

Ryan nodded in understanding then jerked his head towards the left in the direction of a red-headed teen girl clutching her phone to her ear. "What about her?" he asked softly.

Kate flicked her eyes to him. "She's been trying to call her boyfriend since it happened; he hasn't picked up yet."

"Ouch." Esposito commented. "Want us to have a uni take her home?"

Kate shook her head. "She says she won't leave and I can't blame her; she shouldn't have to be at the loft alone. She can stay with me for now. I…I need to be here when they bring him out."

Though it had been over an hour since the blast, the concept was still unfathomable. Richard Castle would not exit the bank of his own accord, jovial smile across his face. He would be carried out—god willing in one piece—placed in a black bag and taken to the coroner's office where Lanie (oh, she hoped it wasn't Lanie), Perlmutter or one of their colleagues would cut open his abdomen, weigh his organs, and determine his cause of death. She hoped it was instant; she hoped he hadn't suffered.

Despite the devastating situation and the fact that she knew she would break down into tears at regular intervals over the next few days, Kate would not leave the site until Castle's body had been recovered. They were partners to the very end. She would stand on the street all night if she had to, but she wouldn't leave him; she couldn't.

"Keep me updated, okay?" Kate asked before they parted.

The boys agreed. "Can we do anything else?" Ryan asked. "Gates said we can have whatever resources we need. We can send LT out here with coffee or food if you want."

Kate was about to refuse, but she had only been thinking of herself. Her stomach was too in knots to consume anything the, but she now had someone else to think of. "Ah, yeah. Alexis should have water and a sandwich—something light."

Ryan nodded. "We're on it."

* * *

"Excuse me, Sir?" Kate approached SWAT leader Peterson as he and his team were unloading gear from the now-defunct van. As the hostage situation had come to an abrupt and unexpected end his presence was no longer required and he needed to clear out so that the rescue teams could move in.

"Ah, Beckett." He nodded in her direction, his expression solemn. "I am sorry about your partner. Don't think any of us could have seen the day going as south as it did."

 _Not in ten thousand lifetimes_ , she thought. "No, sir. I, ah, just thought you should know—my team has discovered that the man who suffered a stroke inside the bank was not who he claimed to be. We believe he actually orchestrated this heist and is ultimately responsible for the bombing."

"Jesus Christ!" Peterson proclaimed. "One of the hostages? Well where is he?"

"For now, in the wind, but my team is on it and I assure you they're the best."

Peterson nodded, dipped his fingers in his pocket and procured a business card. "Well if they need anything—anything at all—you tell them to call me directly."

Kate took the card with a polite nod. "Thank you sir."

Peterson shook his head and cursed again. "And to think we pulled that son a bitch out of there ourselves…unbelievable…"

As Peterson walked away, Kate turned back to the bank rubble and shuddered involuntarily. She had been in the bank. She had scanned her eyes over the area, trying to take everything in while maintaining the ruse that she was just a lowly EMT, trying to save a patient having seizures. Oh, god, if she had only known. If she had read Castle's message while still inside the bank she would have flung him out the door, even at a cost to her own safety; she would have sacrificed herself for him, no questions asked. He had a daughter, he had a family, he was a world famous author. People would mourn him far more than they would have mourned her.

Castle; Castle's gone. Oh, god, Castle's gone.

The realization poured over her once more and she was forced to cover her mouth with her hands to suppress a sob. He was gone and she would never see his face again. His smile would never make her heart flutter so much she was convinced it would just fly out her chest. His touch against her would never set her skin aflame.

Had she known—oh, if she had known—she would have stayed in the bank, lingered as long as she could. She was so busy trying to deal with Sal—horrible, evil Sal—and get him on the gurney while also trying to take the paper Castle intended to palm to her without being caught she hadn't studied his face. If she had thought for one second it would be her final time seeing him she would have gazed at him for minutes on end, memorizing every inch, every crevasse. She would have mapped his eyes—every fleck of gray and gold—so that when she shut hers the canvass would appear and she'd never forget them, or their warmth, for as long as she lived. Now, her chance was gone, and she'd have to live with only pictures or recorded videos.

They would never be enough.

* * *

"Alexis. C'mon. You should—you should go back to the loft. I'll take you."

By two-thirty in the morning, Kate's weariness had reached an unparalleled point. Her feet and back ached for standing for almost the entire day. Her eyelids drooped and her fingers trembled almost continuously. Every step felt like an arduous task one that she only completed out of sheer will, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, hovering protectively around Alexis.

By that point in the wee hours almost all the spectators had left. A few family members of those presumed to be in the bank remained, but they stuck to their own clusters, holding each other, crying, and waiting for the news they both welcomed and dreaded. Other than taking a few trips to a nearby café to use the bathroom, Alexis had remained rooted to the sidewalk, but by two a.m. that was ridiculous. She was still a child at seventeen; she did not need to stand on a sidewalk all night long, even if Kate knew she would do the exact same thing had their positions been reversed.

"No." The girl replied stubbornly. "I'm not leaving."

"You've been here for almost seventeen hours." Kate reminded her.

Alexis looked back towards the rubble. "I'm not leaving."

Kate followed her lead and grazed her eyes over the working scene before them. At dusk, large floodlights were brought in to light the scene, so even though the sun had set hours before, it did not seem particularly dark, even at their position almost half a block away. A crew of at least forty men sifted through the rubble. They had made significant progress in the thirteen-plus hours since they started, shifting all the concrete and rebar into dumpsters or onto the street so that they could make their way down to what once was the ground floor where the bodies would be located. Still, even with thirteen hours of diligent work it hardly looked like they made a dent. If anything, the scene looked worse—more chaotic. Just looking at it made Kate's ankles feel a little weaker.

"Yeah, c'mon. We'll both go."

Though it pained Kate to leave her post, she needed to be realistic. She wanted to do as she'd said—to stay on the sidelines until Castle's body was removed from the wreckage, but she had not anticipated just how long that would take. Hell, at the rate they were going, it could even be another day.

All of Kate's adrenaline had been burned off early thanks to the impromptu hostage negotiation. With little food and probably too much coffee, she could feel her brain beginning to shut down. She felt sluggish and even the simple task of walking to the newly added portable toilets seemed to be a chore too much to handle. Her body craved sleep—even just a few hours—and then she'd be able to keep going; she'd be able to resume her post until the time came.

As the girl remained silent, Kate continued with, "Let's go and sleep for a few hours and then we'll come back in the morning; not much will have changed, I'm promise."

Alexis turned her head towards Kate and spat. "You also promised they'd be all right."

Okay, she deserved that, even if it did hurt, but she was beginning to grow too weary to fight. "Alexis."

"I'm not going and you can't make me."

Kate shook her head at the girls' defiance. Strictly speaking—Kate could. Alexis was a minor and she was an officer of the law, but she didn't want to have to play that card. Alexis needed allies, not foes, so she softened her tone. "Alexis please. Your father wouldn't want you to make yourself sick over this. C'mon, just a few hours. Take a nap, shower, and change your clothes and I promise you can come back and stay until they pull them out."

For thirty seconds, Alexis stared at her and then, with great reluctance, dropped her chin, stepped forward, and followed Kate down the sidewalk.

* * *

Alexis was silent during the short drive back to the Castle loft. She didn't speak as they walked into the building, stepped into the elevator, and ascended to the correct floor. It wasn't until she put the key into the lock and turned it that she looked over at Kate and asked in a nearly invisible voice, "What if they're gone?"

 _Then you could end up just like me_ , Kate thought to herself. Except, perhaps even worse. Alexis was eighteen months younger than Kate was when she lost her mother, but Alexis had lost both her father and grandmother. Not only had she lost an additional family member, but she had lost the sole members of her immediately family; her support system had vanished. When Kate experienced such a loss she at least had her father. Yes, it could be argued that once he descended into the bottle, he wasn't exactly "there" anymore, but that was not right away. In the immediate aftermath Kate had him, but Alexis had no one and that made Kate terrified for the girl.

As they stepped inside the apartment, Kate reached out and touched Alexis's shoulder gently. "If they're gone, we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this—Ryan, Espo, myself; we're all here for you."

Alexis walked slowly through the foyer, staring out at the dark apartment illuminated only by the muted glow of the clocks on the kitchen appliances and a green blinking light coming from Castle's office, presumably from their internet modem. Turning back to Kate, her voice rattling, Alexis concluded, "I'll have to leave here, everything."

Kate shook her head, certain that would not be the case. "Not if you don't want to. Your dad will have made sure everything was taken care of for you, I'm sure of it." Even if the custody situation was up in the air (an issue that would be resolved in less than three weeks) she was sure Rick's will was clear on inheritance. The girl before her was now a multi-millionaire, but Kate wasn't worried about that. If anyone would be sensible with money, Alexis would.

Nodding towards the stairs, Kate said. "Go on, try to get some sleep; I'm going to crash on the couch."

Alexis's tired, sunken eyes grazed up and down Kate's body. "You should probably take a shower first."

"I..." Kate paused and glanced down at herself for the first time. The black EMT uniform she'd borrowed was soiled and grimy thanks to her sixteen hour stint in a cloud of dust and soot. Though she had not looked in a mirror that day, she imagined her face and hair didn't fare much better. "Oh, yes; probably."

* * *

After retrieving her gym bag from her vehicle, Kate showered efficiently in the loft guest bathroom, took her bag into the spare bedroom—the one she had stayed in after her apartment blew up two years prior—and hovered in the doorway. The one bright note of the evening was that Ryan and Esposito had messaged her around midnight saying that they apprehended their suspect, Brandt, and that he had not harmed his ex-wife or child, who had evidently faked their deaths years earlier to escape the abusive man. Though she was glad Brandt would face justice, the news made Kate said; Castle would have loved the twist about the wife and son.

Though she remained deeply exhausted, Kate also felt restless, and knew sleep would not come even in the comfortable bed. Thinking some tea might help, she descended the stairs, taking in the ambient quiet of the apartment; the only sound filling the space was that of the city streets plus the hum of the refrigerator motor. Instead of turning towards the kitchen, Kate moved instead across the foyer and to the threshold of the master bedroom. She lingered there several moments, daring herself to cross over. Going into his personal space wouldn't be right, not without his permission, but tragically it was not possible for him to give permission anymore.

Pushing herself away from the door frame, Kate walked cautiously into the room, not wanting to run into anything in the dark and unfamiliar space. When her bare feet felt the edge of the rug surrounding the bed, she reached out her hand and groped for it, feeling her way along the mattress to the bedside table, where she flicked on the lamp. There it was; Castle's bed.

He'd made it that morning—well he'd toss the duvet up towards the pillows, but she imagined the sheets weren't exactly folded into hospital-corners beneath. The pillows on the side on which she stood were crushed and sitting at odd angles whereas those on the opposite side were neatly stacked against the headboard, waiting patiently for someone to slide in and occupy them.

That someone should have been her.

God it was her fault; it was all her fault. If she hadn't lied after she was shot. If she'd broke up with Josh in the hospital and told Castle she felt the same they would have had months together— _months_. Even if she hadn't done it right away, if she'd pressed the "send" button during one of the hundred times she picked up her phone over the summer they still could have made a go of it. But she hadn't; they hadn't.

They weren't a couple because of her.

Kate lifted her right hand and dusted it along the edge of the pillow closest to her. She sunk down onto the bed and brought her face to the indentation of the pillow. She breathed in and smelled Castle; his soap, his aftershave. If she listened hard enough she could hear his laugh echoing off the walls of the loft.

The detective breathed in again and her diaphragm spasmed. God, she missed him so much. It hadn't even been a day but the ache clawed at her insides so much she could hardly stand it.

He loved her. Richard Castle loved her and she had pretended that she didn't hear it; pretended that she didn't remember and for that she'd never forgive herself—not for as long as she lived.

They could have been happy together—they would have been, but they weren't all because what? She was terrified of how he felt about her? Of how she felt about him? She was terrified of letting in the man who had been so loyal, so kind, so supportive.

Kate collapsed forward on the bed consumed by her sobs; she knew she was being too hard on herself. She had every right to take a relationship at her own pace—particularly a relationship she wanted to take seriously, a relationship she wanted to make last. That was fair, and to the best of her knowledge Castle had no problem with it; he had still been there, by her side. Yet, in the wake of such a senseless event where she had no one to blame, she felt it easiest to blame herself.

Wanting to do anything to make herself feel less horrible, less like happiness had been permanently removed from her life, Kate switched off the lamp and curled herself up into a ball on Castle's side of the bed. She didn't use his pillow, not wanting to replace his scent with her own, but rested her head beside it, her fingers grazing against the bottom corner until her body gave in to sleep.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews & follows to this fic so far. As people have been commenting about it I have gone back and added a warning for minor character death to the first chapter. That should give you a pretty good idea of where we're going with this; sorry about not warning you sooner._

 _As a consolation to this sad chapter, I will post another part of Timer later today._


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

"Kate. Kate wake up."

Kate awoke to the feeling of someone shaking her shoulder. She gasped, sat up and groaned immediately. God, her neck; what was wrong with her neck? Oh, right, she'd slept curled up in a ball with no pillow; that would do it. Blinking her eyes, the detective gazed up at the red-head. "Wha…'lexis…what timsit?" she mumbled out through a yawn.

"Eight thirty. Why aren't you in the guest room?"

"I..." Kate hesitated as she gazed around the room and slowly remembered that she had curled up on Rick's bed after her breakdown not quite five hours earlier. Considering the real answer of "because I already miss your father so much my soul hurts" was not one she wished to reveal in that moment, she merely ignored the question and changed the subject. "Just let me get ready and then we'll go back to the bank. Okay?"

Alexis stared at her, her ice blue eyes reflection exhaustion as well as devastation. "I turned on the news. The local reporter said that no survivors were expected."

Kate could not say she disagreed with the assessment, but for the young girl's sake she decided to soften the blow. "At this stage of an event like this the press is always reporting things that aren't true. It's not intention—at least, I hope not—but there's just so much misinformation. We—the police—don't give statements in ongoing situations, unless they're of a public-safety nature. I'm sure even if the rescue crew was certain they wouldn't find survivors, they wouldn't say it at this juncture; it's too soon."

"But…" Alexis began hesitantly, her brain clearly working through Kate's information. "If they did find someone alive, wouldn't the announce it to…boost moral or something?"

The detective pressed her lips together. Well, the girl got her there; that is probably what would happen—assuming they did find someone alive, which was a large assumption. "Maybe," she continued, "but you saw that rubble pile, Alexis; you can't just move it—literally—overnight. We'll know more once we get to the scene, okay?"

Alexis nodded, Kate stroked a hand down her arm, and then she disappeared up the stairs to retrieve her bag from the guest room and change into clothing more suitable than yoga pants and an old t-shirt.

* * *

"God, it looks worse in the daylight." Alexis commented as they approached the scene.

Despite her badge and flashing lights, Kate had not been able to get her cruiser as close to the scene as she had been the night before. The NYPD had several surrounding blocks cordoned off in order to get heavy equipment vehicles in and out to begin hauling away debris. They were forced to park on a side street almost four blocks away and hoof it through the chilled morning air. As they rounded a corner and the scene came into view, it was certainly a punch to the gut. Alexis's assessment was right; it did look worse in the daylight.

Now that the air wasn't hazy with the sediment of crumbling concrete, the tower of decimation was plain. Of course, the crews shifting the rubble to uncover what lie beneath as quickly as possible did exacerbate the situation, but the view was certainly shocking. In addition to the building housing the bank, the one beside had mostly collapsed as well, which wasn't surprising giving the volume of explosives that were used in the blast.

The closer they got, Kate directed Alexis to go behind the barriers while she used her badge to sneak through and find the rescue crew's commanding officer. After briefly explaining who she was and why she was so vested in the bank hostage situation, the CO, whose name was Capers, took her over to their command center tent and explained their rescue operation.

"Based on what was observed yesterday," he said, gesturing towards a blueprint of the bank schematics on a table in front of them, "we believe all the hostages were taken into the back of the building, where the only rooms were a male and female restroom and the safety deposit box vault. Operating under the assumption that the blast was not meant to level the building, we theorized that the robbers may have secured the hostages inside the safety deposit box vault to either keep them contained, or protect them from what was intended to be a smaller blast that would open the main vault with the money."

"So you're focusing your efforts on the rear of the building, over the safety deposit box vault?" Kate guessed.

Capers confirmed with a nod. "We're making progress, but it's been slow so far. We can't just dig in one area because we need to secure what remains of the walls to keep our men safe and prevent cave ins. The prospects don't look good, either," he said, gesturing towards the blueprints once more. "If the door to the safety deposit box vault was left open, the blast could have reverberated inside that tight space and caused untold damage. If the door was closed, people inside might have been protected from the blast, but they would have also had a limited amount of air."

Capers shook his head. "Even if that was the 'best case scenario' we're talking about what? Twenty hostages in this space. We had a guy run the numbers on the cubic feet of oxygen inside and they only would have had a few hours of air."

Kate nodded. Surprisingly, his words did not affect her. Perhaps, by that point, she was simply too numb. Or he was telling her something her brain had simply already accepted. "So, what you're saying is that this is a recovery operation, not a rescue."

Capers looked at her solemnly. "It has been from the start."

* * *

"It's okay—you can tell me the truth; I can take it," Alexis said as Kate approached, sidling her way through the barriers. Evidently the younger girl had picked up on the detective's lackluster expression.

"They're focusing their search on the area where the safety deposit box vault was; it's their best guess as to where everyone might be."

Alexis nodded as she processed the information. "Would the vault be bomb proof?"

Kate shook her head. "They don't know, but even if it was…"

"Oxygen." Alexis concluded. Kate offered a small smile; she really was her father's daughter. "How long has it been since the bomb went off?"

"Ah, twenty…" Kate pulled out her phone to check the time, suddenly feeling in a haze. It really was as though the days weren't progressing forward and they were just stuck. "Twenty-three hours I think."

"Almost a day." The younger girl said softly, turning her eyes towards the building, which could not be clearly scene from their vantage point due to the dump trucks and equipment. Turning back to Kate she asked, "Do you think they're alive in there?"

Silently, Kate shook her head. She didn't want them to be dead—god, she didn't want it, but she had to be realistic and the odds were simply too stacked against them. Assuming the blast had not killed them instantly, which given the street-level devastation was quite an assumption, their oxygen would have long run out by that point. Even if by some twist of fate they had managed to obtain an air supply they were going on a day without water and the rescue crews had not yet reached the vault area. It could be hours until they did. Survival simply wasn't feasible.

"Do you want me to take you back home?" she offered as the girl's chin dropped to her chest.

"No, I want to stay. I want to stay until they bring them out."

Kate nodded and squeezed the girl's elbow. "Okay. I'm just going to call and check in with my team and maybe find us something to eat?" She offered. Alexis nodded, though continued to stare at her feet. With a heavy heart, Kate walked away to find a quiet place to call her colleagues, trying not to think about what lie beneath the battered concrete.

* * *

"I can't stop thinking about it—all the 'what if's."

Kate looked over at the younger girl, curious. For the better part of an hour they'd stood together on the sidewalk in silence. At first they were eating the bagels and cream cheese Kate purchased for them, but then they were just watching. Watching and waiting.

"What if Gram had waited until today to go for her loan? What if she'd used a different bank? That wasn't dad's usual bank. If she'd used his bank or a different branch of this bank then-"

"Alexis." Kate cut off the girl's increasingly frantic speech pattern by placing a hand in the center of her back. With red-rimmed eyes, the girl looked at her. "You can't—you can't do that; you'll drive yourself crazy." Kate would know considering she had mentally been doing the same.

What if she had told Castle that she loved him? What if she'd just grabbed him and kissed him one of the dozens of times she'd wanted to? If they had the prior few months together as a real couple, would that have made losing him any easier?

At least she could be satisfied with knowing that the answer to the last question was probably no, but still, she wondered.

Now slightly tearful, Alexis looked at her, imploringly. "But if they had just-"

"I know," Kate said calmly. "I know, Alexis; I understand. I know how hard it is to what to find logic and reason in a situation, but sometimes there just isn't any and you have to try and let it go. The man responsible for this is in custody, he will be prosecuted. Your father and grandmother will have justice and that is, truly, the best you can hope for."

Perhaps that was the key difference that would prevent Alexis from turning into her, a fractured woman ruled by her past unable to have a future due to scars and old wounds. Her mother's murder had always been a giant question mark in her life. She never had the satisfaction of justice and she'd never been able to move on because of it. Alexis would get that closure, hard as it was, and Kate could only pray it saved her from a fate of loneliness.

* * *

"Are those…are those the search dogs?" Alexis asked when a bout of riotous barking hit their ears. They had been standing on the sidewalk for four hours, waiting with no avail. The activity around the site had continued at a persistent hum, but nothing had dramatized until a minute earlier when the barking began.

Kate craned her neck, but she still could not see past the heavy equipment. "Sounds like they could be."

"So what does all that barking mean?"

The detective swallowed, steeling herself to answer. "If those are the cadaver dogs it probably means they found them."

Alexis breathed in sharply and stood up on her toes to try and see over the equipment, but of course she could see no more than Kate. She moved down the row of barriers, hunched down and looked from a different angle, but found nothing so she returned to the detective's side. "Will we be able to see them when they come out?"

Kate shook her head. "No, no; they'll shield them from the crowd with sheets or bags."

"What about in the morgue? Families go there to identify bodies, right?"

"That depends on...it depends." She didn't want to go into graphic detail for the girl, but it really did depend on the situation. If, theoretically, Castle and his mother were sealed up tightly in the safety deposit box vault and had died of asphyxiation, then Alexis would be able to see them. They would not be outwardly harmed and would look largely similar to how they had while they were alive.

If, however, they had been damaged by either the blast or the debris from the falling building, the odds of being able to see them decreased rapidly. If bodies were damaged—particularly if the faces were damaged—family members were often kept away to avoid traumatization. Though Kate had seen her fair share of bodies in gruesome conditions, she was not sure even she would look upon Castle's blast-riddled face and she certainly would not allow Alexis to do so.

As though the girl had heard her internal monologue, Alexis said defiantly, "I want to see them."

"No, you don't."

"Yes I do."

"No, you don't." Kate repeated more firmly. When the girl huffed out a breath, Kate turned towards the wreckage and sighed. "Take it from someone who has seen their parent dead—you can't un-ring that bell, Alexis." If, given the opportunity, would Kate go back in time and refuse to see the images of her mother's bloodied body in that alleyway? Probably not, but as it was a picture that haunted her nearly every day, she would do her damnedest to prevent the same fate from tainting someone as innocent as Alexis.

The younger girl's face flushed. "I-I'm sorry Kate."

The detective offered a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You never know—maybe we can see them." But would she really want that as their fate? To know that they had survived the bombing only to die because rescue crews could not reach them quick enough? True, it wasn't the crew's fault—they had been moving as fast as they could to move the tonnage of the fallen building, but such knowledge would break her heart all over again.

"Hey! Hey! Over here!"

Kate's attention was pulled back to the scene when frantic shouts reached her ears.

"Get a medic! We got someone alive in here!"


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Kate couldn't move or breathe. She was sure her mind was playing tricks on her.

Alive? No one could be alive. She knew it. The rescuer's CO knew it. The news crews knew it. It just wasn't possible.

…was it?

"Hurry! C'mon! Get that stretcher!"

"Jesus." Kate breathed out as Alexis clawed onto her forearm.

"My dad," she pleaded, "it has to be my dad."

Looking over at the girl whose face had lit with hope, Kate remained speechless. God, was it possible? Could Rick be alive? Could he have survived a blast that absolutely should have killed him?

Twenty-one hostages had been in that bank and seeing how unlikely it seemed that any of them survived, it seemed even more unlikely that multiple people had survived. Were that the case, then what were the odds that Richard Castle was that lone survivor? Less than five percent, statistically speaking. But it was a chance and—god—it was more of a chance than she'd had when she woke up that morning.

"Can you see? Can you see anything?"

Kate skimmed her eyes across the scene at Alexis's frantic request. The heavy equipment still blocked most of her view, but she was able to see two men carrying an orange stretcher between them jogging up past the fractured SWAT van. "There," she said, pointing through the crowd. "They're taking in a stretcher now."

Alexis stood up on her toes in a futile attempt to get a better view. "Will we see them? Will we see who they bring out?"

"I…I don't…" Kate's voice drifted off as she too craned her neck, but not in the direction of the rubble. Kate gazed towards where the EMT's had originated and, behind the SWAT van, she could just barely see the faint flickering of ambulance lights.

Turning to Alexis she said, "Stay here, okay? Maybe you'll be able to see, but I'm going to try and find that ambulance, okay?" When the girl nodded in conformation, Kate took off towards her right, weaving her way through the crowd and the preexisting barriers.

If one of the hostages was being pulled from the wreckage, that individual had spent over a day buried beneath concrete. Clearly, they would not be in the best of shape. Thus, Kate could only assume that the EMT's would rush them to the hospital, which meant she needed to be quick as well.

Making her way all the way around the cordoned off area took Kate far longer than she would have wanted, even at her jogging pace. When she finally reached the area where the ambulance had pulled in, she pulled her badge from her hip and cradled it in her palm, ready to use it in defense of anyone who stopped her. At the edge of a blue, NYPD wooden barrier, she met her first obstacle.

A uniformed man stepped up and blocked her path. She held up her badge, not bothering to look him in the face, and moved around him, but he jumped to his left, blocking her. "I'm sorry officer-"

"This is a detective's badge." She spat at the man she presumed to be a rookie.

"Sorry, detective—ma'am," the rookie stumbled, "but I was told not to let anyone through here."

"Look I—I don't want to go near the scene, I just want to see who they're putting in that ambulance."

He shook his head. "Sorry, I can't let anyone through."

"Then pretend you didn't see me." She retorted before jumping the barrier with the skill of a college track all-star. As she saw commotion in the area, Kate sprinted towards the back of the ambulance where, once again, she was barricaded, that time by a man who wore a uniform no different from the one she'd borrowed the day before.

"Ma'am you need to stay back."

She looked at the other man imploringly. Displaying her badge she breathed out, "Please. Please! My partner was in that bank and I—I need to know if—if…"

The EMT glanced behind him, peeking his head just around the edge of the ambulance doors. Turning back to Kate he asked. "White male?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Yes." Was this possible? Could she dare to be excited? Her betraying mind told her there was no way; it wasn't possible but, oh god, could it be?

The EMT stepped aside. "Be quick; they're trying to get out of here."

As she darted around him, too frantic to bother with a thank you, Kate's world moved in slow motion. She could feel the rustle of the breeze against her cheek, bringing with it the still metallic and dust filled scent of the air as well as a hint of antiseptic from the inside of the ambulance. The gravel and soot crunched on the ground beneath her boot. Her heart leapt up into her esophagus with each beat.

Kate rounded the corner of the ambulance door, but she couldn't see anything other than the backs of the two EMT's hooking up monitors and machines to their patient. Resisting the urge to rush forward and shove them out of the way, she mentally reviewed just how many of those twenty-one hostages could have been considered a "white male" but she could not recall. God, what a terrible detective she was, but she'd been so distracted with Castle, his face, his hands, his everything, that she'd simply failed to notice.

"White male" was such a generic descriptor that could classify dozens of different types of people. The patient in the ambulance could have been a young man just out of his teens who had gone into the bank to cash a paycheck so he'd have spending money for the week. He could have been a middle aged business man doing a transaction for his employer. He could have been an older man looking to take out a savings bond for a grandchild. Any number of scenarios existed and only one of them was "world famous author."

When one of the EMT's moved towards the front of the ambulance Kate caught her first glimpse of the man on the gurney. Specifically, she could see his shoe. Her heart stuttered at the sight of the black loafer, large in size. God, oh god. Her heart wanted to believe it so badly, but her brain simply could not—not without more proof.

The tips of her fingers beginning to tremble, Kate took one more step forward and ducked her head for a better view. Black jeans—his signature—once so crisp in their color were now covered in soot and other debris.

Oh god, could it be? Could it be true? The first person pulled from the wreckage that should have destroyed all human life was the one she longed for, body and soul?

Her jaw beginning to rattle and her knees so unstable she could barely move, she slid her feet forward against the ground, desperate to try and get a glimpse. She wouldn't believe it—not until she saw his face. When the second EMT moved, a rattled gasp escaped her lips.

There he was—blue shirt, dark blazer, the bottom of his chin and the crest of his nose.

"Castle…CASTLE!"

Kate wasn't even sure where she found the strength to do anything more than croak let alone scream so loud that she drew the attention of the EMTs.

The shorter of the two looked at her with great shock, asking, "You know this man?"

With a trembling hand she held up her badge, "He's my partner, Richard Castle. Is he—is he all right?"

The man's expression turned from surprised to grave. "Low breath sounds, sluggish pulse, he's barely alive. We've got to get him out of here. C'mon," he beckoned her forward with a gloved hand. "Tell us his stats on the way."

She didn't hesitate for even a millisecond before diving forward into the vehicle. As the doors shut behind her she took a seat on the very edge of the bench furthest away from the medical equipment. The EMTs were speaking to each other and to the driver to radio ahead to the hospital, but all Kate could hear was static; her brain was screaming too loudly.

 _Castle's alive, Castle's alive, Castle's alive._

"Ma'am?" the EMT said, drawing her attention back to the vehicle.

"Detective Beckett." She corrected. The EMT nodded and proceeded to ask her detailed questions about Castle and his medical history. She answer them as best she could; thankfully the writer was not shy at all and had told her many things, like his allergy to a certain type of antibiotics and how (to his disappointment) he had not had any major surgeries in his life.

Satisfied with all she could give them, the EMT turned back to work as the ambulance rumbled away from the scene. As Kate glimpsed the crowd of onlookers outside the small window of the ambulance doors, she remembered Alexis for the first time. Cursing under her breath, she pulled out her phone and texted a brief message to Esposito and asking him to retrieve Alexis and bring her to the hospital. He responded almost immediately with, _10-4._

With her phone back in her pocket, Kate turned her eyes towards the man before her. The EMTs were hooking him up to monitors and machines. They had cut off his shirt and jacket and had his hands across his belly as they attached IVs. She wanted to touch him, but also did not want to interfere so she reached out her hand tentatively towards his left leg. His pants were torn at the ankle, exposing a few inches of skin.

Kate slipped her hand in the torn spot and smoothed her fingers against his leg. His skin was cool to the touch, but still soft and supple, not waxy. That was a good sign, wasn't it? If his blood was still flowing to his extremities his body had not shut down entirely yet, right? He would be okay. He just—he had to be okay.

Sucking in a trembling breath, Kate shut her eyes and a tear dripped down her cheek. God, she couldn't lose him again—not in barely more than a day. He had to make it. He had to pull through. He had to—for Alexis. For them. He had to make because she knew if he didn't he'd be furious with himself for losing the opportunity to regale them with his dramatic tales of survival.

"C'mon Castle." She coached, barely above a whisper. "You've come this far; you have to hold on. You have to stay with me."

* * *

"My Dad! My Dad! Where's my Dad?"

Alexis came barreling towards Kate the moment she spotted her across the emergency room waiting area. She ran with such force that she actually slid a few inches across the tile floor when she attempted to stop, her eyes frantic, her hair swirling wildly behind her. Esposito trailed several steps behind her at a speed-walking pace.

Kate turned and approached her, cautioning arms outstretched. "The doctors are working on him now; we can't see him yet."

"Is he all right? Where is he!?"

"Alexis." Kate caught the girl by her shoulders and held her steady while being as gentle as possible. "They're trying to help him now but he's—he's very sick. He-"

"He's alive. He's alive and he's going to be fine." The young red-head said defiantly before twisting away from Kate's grasp.

Defeated, Kate turned her gaze towards the floor and hugged her arms close to her chest. She wanted to believe that—she really did. She _needed_ Castle to be okay, but she was a cop and knew all too well that just because you wanted something bad enough didn't mean it would come true.

Being in the ambulance with Castle had been a mixture of joy and agony for Kate. On one hand, she got to look at his face one more time—the thing she'd been dreaming about the prior night. She was able to touch his skin and feel his presence, however muted. Yet, being in the ambulance also forced her to bear witness to the medical intervention he needed. She had anticipated the IVs and various tubes, but during the ride the lead EMT was deeply concerned about the writer's blood oxygen level and so he decided to intubate him in addition to giving him drugs to speed his heart rate.

Watching this procedure was almost too much for Kate to handle, but it also came with a cruel sense of irony. Not even six months prior their positions had been reversed. He was the one watching medical professionals desperately try to save her as her heart stopped beating again and again in the back of an ambulance. Thankfully, Castle's heart had not stopped –nor had his breathing, technically. Both were just very, very slow.

The moment they arrived in the ER he was whisked away by the nurses into the closest trauma room. She had tried to inquire about his condition several times, but each time the nurses dismissed her easily saying that the doctors were still assessing his condition and she would be updated when they knew more.

Kate wanted to grab them, shake them and scream. Didn't they understand? Didn't they understand that this man was her entire world? Didn't they understand that she had spent the prior twenty-seven hours thinking he was dead and now that he was alive all she wanted to do was curl her body around his and never let go?

Evidently, they did not, because they treated her no differently than an annoying gnat. Fortunately, nearly an hour had passed since they arrived at the hospital so Kate was hoping for an update sooner than later. That, or she'd go insane from the waiting.

"How is he really?" Esposito whispered to her once Alexis was out of earshot, pacing the hallway.

Kate gave him a helpless shrug. "They seemed really concerned about his blood oxygen levels in the ambulance; that's about all I got out of them."

"Well shit yeah." Espo commented. "He was under a building in a sealed vault. It's amazing he's alive at all. Sorry." He added quickly, presumably at her unappreciative expression.

"What if he doesn't wake up, Espo?" she asked softly.

The male detective rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry; I'm sure he's dying to tell us all about how he survived a building falling on him."

Despite herself, Kate did let out a small chuckle as she had thought almost the exact same thing. Clearing her throat to alleviate the emotion, she asked, "How was the scene?"

"They set up a tent as a makeshift morgue. Had about six bodies out when I picked up Alexis."

"God." Kate commented.

"I left Ryan there; he's going to text me with updates."

Kate nodded and then allowed him to step away and make a call. With him gone, she instinctually reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. The home screen told her she had a new text message from her father. She taped the icon to read it and cringed as she did.

 _Breaking news report says Richard Castle was pulled from the wreckage of that bank bomb...?_

Shit. How had the news...? Damn. It must have been one of the uniforms or an EMT that recognized the name and tipped them off the reporters. Just perfect. She knew the NYPD wouldn't confirm anything—not this early—but if his name was out there it was sure to cause a frenzy, just what they didn't want.

Not wanting to leave her father with misinformation, Kate quickly typed back: Castle was in the bank. He's still hanging on, but in bad shape

Her father's reply was almost instant. _I'm so sorry Katie. Keep me updated. Let me know if you need anything._

She thanked him and then slipped her phone back into her pants pocket. For several moments she waited patiently until her partner ended his phone call. Then, she informed him of the leaked story so he could tell Gates, who would tell the commissioner so a statement could be prepared. Before Kate could walk away again, Esposito grabbed her by the forearm as he said, "Yo."

She looked at him curiously for a moment before he handed over his cell phone. His chatting conversation with Ryan was displayed on the screen and Kate gazed down at the last incoming message. _19 bodies out; no more survivors in the vault_.

Oh god.

Looking back up at him dumbly, she said, "Castle's…he's the only…"

Esposito nodded grimly. He glanced briefly over Kate's shoulder then met her eye again. "Want me to tell her?"

Kate turned her head so she could catch a glimpse of Alexis pacing and wringing her hands. God, what a terrible fate for the girl. Her grandmother was dead; her father barely alive. Though technically a more favorable outcome than they'd had that morning, the uncertainty of Castle's condition almost made it worse.

"No…no just wait a little bit. Maybe they'll update us on Castle soon," Kate said as she turned back to her colleague. His solemn expression made her stomach flip in her gut again. God, it was too much; it was all too much. "I'm just going to um…I need…"

"Go." He nodded. "I'll stay with Alexis."

Kate moved to step away but promised, "I'm not going far; just need some air." Espo nodded her on and she turned towards the ER exit, not even sure where she was going.

* * *

 _A/N: I know there was some debate in the reviews about whether or not Martha is a minor character. In my mind, she's not a major character and therefore is a minor one sorry for those of you that disagree._

 _Thanks again for your reviews._


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

"Excuse me—are you the family of Richard Castle?"

"My dad!" Alexis exploded from her chair the moment the man in a white lab coat stepped up to them. "How's my dad!?"

Slowly, Kate stood as well, preparing herself for whatever news the doctor gave them. They had been waiting in the hospital hallway for an additional forty minutes since Alexis arrived. After a loop around the block Kate had returned to her post and sent the male detective back to the precinct where he'd be of better use. He had left only after she promised to text him immediately with updates.

The doctor gazed down at his chart and then at the two women. "Sorry, I just need to know who you are."

"I'm his daughter!" Alexis said defiantly as though the doctor should have understood that fact telepathically somehow.

Kate flashed the badge on her hip. "Detective Beckett. Mr. Castle was a civilian investigator on my team. His daughter is a minor. And his only other family was—in the bank with him." Kate stopped herself just short of saying his only remaining family was killed. Alexis was already giving her a side eye, presumably at Kate's comment about her age; she didn't need to upset the girl further.

Evidently satisfied with this answer, the doctor continued. "Mr. Castle is stable, but he's not out of the woods yet. We don't know how long he was deprived of oxygen or what lasting effects that might have. He is breathing on his own and his heart rate and blood pressure seem to have regulated, which are both good signs."

"Can we see him?" Alexis asked.

The doctor nodded, though hesitantly. "You need to understand just because he looks perfectly fine, his brain might not be. We're still running tests."

"He hasn't regained consciousness?" Kate asked.

"No."

"But we can sit with him?"

The doctor offered a pleasant smile. "Of course."

A few moments later a nurse arrived to take them up to the fifth floor, where patients with neurological issues were housed. Midway down a hall smelling strongly of classic hospital antiseptic, the nurse stopped in front of a room and gestured for them to enter. Alexis rushed past Kate, who entered at a more cautious pace. There, in the center of the room, wearing a blue and white polka doted hospital gown, was the writer. Just as the doctor had promised, he looked perfectly fine—there wasn't so much of a scratch on his face. Beneath the surface, however, was a different story.

Alexis went immediately to her father's left side, picked up his hand and pulled it close to her chest. "Dad! Dad, please. You have to wake up. Please wake up. Please!"

Kate walked to his right side and, as his right hand was the one with the IVs, she did not pick it up. Instead, she reached out her right hand and placed it on his upper arm. His eyes fluttered slightly, but he did not stir. "We're both right here, Rick." She told him gently. "We're here waiting for you to wake up."

They stood in silence, both waiting—hoping—that Castle would open his eyes, but he didn't. Kate glanced over at Alexis and the way she cradled his left hand as if it were an object she needed to protect at the cost of her own life, if needed. "Is he squeezing your hand?"

Tearfully, Alexis shook her head. "No. Do you think that's a bad sign?"

Kate shook her head. "No, he's probably just sleeping. You know him—he could sleep through a tornado."

Alexis offered a small smile and nodded. Truthfully, Kate did not know this information first hand as she and Castle had never slept in the same space. The writer had regaled her with many a tale, though. Plus, he'd nodded off more than a few times at her desk during a late-night case, but that was not exactly the same thing.

"You think he can hear us?" Alexis asked.

"Maybe. If he can, he's probably annoyed we're talking around him, not to him."

Alexis agreed and began to tell her father all about what she witnessed of the building explosion and its aftermath. Meanwhile, Kate stood back, hovering by the bed around Castle's knees, her arms folded over her chest as she gazed at the man who appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

The only survivor. Castle was the only survivor. Nineteen hostages had gone into that safety deposit box vault having no idea it would be their final living act. Castle, the twentieth, had been the only to emerge.

Kate was not one to believe in a higher power, but it was beginning to be the only thing that made sense. How had Castle survived when others had not? What had given him the advantage?

She did not really expect answers. In dramatic situations there rarely were any. She needed to be grateful he was alive, grateful he had a chance to recover. Grateful that they had a chance.

Grazing her fingertip over his legs beneath the blanket she smiled gently to herself.

 _They had a chance._

* * *

Returning from the bathroom, Kate slid her hands down into her jean pockets and sighed. They had been in Castle's hospital room for—god—two and a half hours. It felt like longer. It wasn't as though she hated it; considering the prior day and a half, she was all too happy to stare at him endlessly and memorize every inch of his ruggedly handsome face. But the waiting was stressful. Would he wake up then? In an hour? In a day? In a week? These were questions not even the doctors could answer.

A mere twenty minutes after Kate and Alexis entered Castle's room, two nurses came to wheel him away for a CT scan. They were told it would be at least an hour, so they decided to go and find something to eat, but when they got to the cafeteria Alexis said she wasn't hungry, so Kate purchased a candy bar out of a vending machine and they returned to Castle's room to wait.

Alexis had only been sitting down for fifteen minutes before she fell asleep, slumped over against the arm rest. Kate couldn't blame the girl; she was exhausted as well, but far too stressed to sleep. She needed Castle to wake up; she needed him to be all right. Then, she would rest.

A little more than an hour after he'd left, Castle was returned to the hospital room, a process which, somewhat amazingly, did not wake the sleeping red-head. Evidently, she had inherited her father's talent for sleeping deeply—and sleeping anywhere. Not wanting to risk waking her, Kate followed the nurses out into the hall and asked for the results of the CT scan. They did not have the results to give, but did caution her that the doctors were concerned about brain damage as a result of the oxygen deprivation. Upon hearing this, Kate immediately wished she had not asked.

She wandered the halls for the better part of the next hour, trying to get out her nervous energy. She made continuous loops around the fifth floor, checking on Castle each time she passed the room, but he never woke. Briefly, she called Esposito to hear the latest but the only new information he could provide her was that the police commissioner was preparing to make an official statement later that evening. In the meantime, officers were standing guard outside Castle's apartment and the hospital to make sure they were not disturbed by inquisitive reporters.

Back in the hospital room, Kate opted to sit not in the guest chair beside Alexis, but instead on the edge of the bed, just at Castle's waist. From that position, she was just close enough to reach up and brush some of the hair off his forehead. One of the nurses must have wiped it down to rid it of dust and grime, but in doing so had not quite put it back into the properly coiffed Castle positon. Kate remedied this and then combed her fingers back over his temples, all the while wondering what was going on inside the brain matter beneath her touch.

What if he wasn't the same when he woke up? What if he changed?

This was the persistent thought in her mind—the one that made her stomach flip with terror. Brain damage as a result of oxygen deprivation—what did that even mean? She'd heard about instances—read about them. People who had nearly died of hypothermia or drowned in a body of water, occasionally even people with strokes or aneurisms. Their traumatic brain injuries resulted in personality changes or shifts in careers.

What if Castle didn't want to write anymore? What if he couldn't?

Such a fate would be so sad and…strange. Castle was a writer to his very core. If one thing had become evident over their three-and-a-half year partnership it was that. It was in the very fabric of his being, as was his inquisitive mind and sharp observational skills. What if they were gone? Would it change how she felt about him?

She wanted to say no. She wanted to say that she would feel the same for him if he was a writer or an accountant, but that's because his career didn't matter to her; his personality did. What if that changed too? What if the oxygen deprivation made Castle lose his sense of humor? His spark? What if he—

No. She couldn't think about such things. She was imagining how she'd react to a future that wouldn't matter if he did not regain consciousness. Castle need to wake up first; then, they'd face any challenges together; like partners.

Her fingers continuing to brush through his hair, she spoke softly, "You need to wake up, Castle. C'mon, just open your eyes—even just a little bit."

She truly did not expect him to react to her statement so when, a moment later, he made a grunting noise, she gasped and snatched her hand away from his head. "Castle?" she whispered; he grunted again. Her heart rate spiked.

Oh god—was it coincidental or was he answering her?

Kate placed her hands flat against his chest and leaned in, studying his face. "Rick? Can you hear me?" He didn't grunt again so she returned her hand to stroking through his hair, thinking that may have been the trigger, but again there was no response.

Slightly disappointed, Kate grazed her hand down his arm and over his wrist. When she reached his hand, she slid her fingers against his palm, being mindful of the needle hooked up to the back of his hand. When she reached the base of his fingers, they twitched against hers. She ran her index finger in a circular pattern against his palm and his fingers continued to twitch, but he did not close his hand around hers. Giving up, Kat slid her fingers away only to have him trap them with his thumb, but only for a second before the hand went limp again.

Kate pressed her lips together as she gazed down at his hand. Sad as it was that he had not held firmly to her, she was not disappointed. Hopefully this was a sign that he was coming out of his sleepy state; that he would wake, sooner than later.

"C'mon, you can do it. I know you can," she said. His eyelids fluttered as they had been and Kate could feel the raw emotion in her chest; she just couldn't help herself. Bracing her hands against the edge of the bed, she leaned in, arching her body over him, the oxygen tubes and IV lines, and brought her lips to the hollow of his cheek. She stayed there for the span of three seconds before pulling back.

Kate had not been upright more than a few seconds before she heard, "Do you love him?"

Startled, she jumped and whipped her head in the direction of the red-headed girl who was now alert. Immediately, Kate wondered for how long the girl had been awake and how much of Kate's interaction with the sleeping writer she had seen. "Alexis—I. Oh. What?"

"Do you love my dad?" She repeated.

Kate gave her standard answer to any questions on the nature of their relationship. "He's my partner."

Alexis unfolded herself from the chair and stood on the opposite side of the bed as Kate. "That doesn't answer my question. You're here with him—us. You slept in his bed last night. You look like... do you love him?"

Ever her father's daughter, Alexis had Kate pretty much pegged. She had listened and observed, and then questioned where those two fact bases misaligned; Castle would have been so proud. Unable to continue her charade with the girl whose eyes so plainly matched her fathers, Kate merely jerked her head up and down once.

"Then why did you hurt him?" the younger girl asked with a tone filled with wisdom far beyond her years.

Kate assumed Alexis referred to their summer apart during which she had promised to call her partner and failed to do so for nearly four months' time. "I-I didn't mean to."

"But you did." Alexis challenged. "He was upset all summer because you wouldn't call him."

Feeling her bottom lip begin to tremble, Kate shook her head. "I know; I'm sorry. I'm terrible at... these things. Relationships, emotions. I don't know how to say what I feel or even trust it." Her tearful expression turned pleading. "I don't want to hurt him. I promise. I...I won't shut him out again." She wouldn't; she knew she wouldn't. She had almost lost him once and she would not make that mistake again. Castle's return to her life was a gift she would not waste.

Alexis gazed down at her father and then up at Kate. "You should tell him."

Kate blinked. "What?"

"You should tell him how you feel. He loves you so much it might make him wake up." With that, she left the hospital room, presumably to visit the bathroom. With her gone, Kate looked down at the sleeping man.

Alexis's suggestion was borderline comical, almost fairy tale like…and precisely the suggestion Castle would have made if he were in Alexis's shoes. Ever rational, Kate did not believe merely telling an unconscious man how she felt would rouse him from his near comatose state. They had no way of knowing if he was even able to hear them let alone will himself into consciousness at her words. Yet, on the other hand, she was willing to do just about anything to hear his voice once again.

Leaning over him once more, she brushed her hand through his hair and down the crest of his ear. Holding it against his jaw, she grazed he thumb over his chin and said, "Please don't leave us, Rick. Please. I love you. I love you, Rick." A tear dripped off her cheek and fell onto his hospital gown, but she didn't notice. Kate remained with her hand on his face, waiting for the moment when he opened his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

"Mm…whasawhermi?"

"Dad!" Alexis was the first to react to the incoherent mumblings of the man in the hospital bed. "Dad! You're awake!"

As she slowly stood, Kate did not share Alexis's joy. Barely an hour had passed since her professions of love and it appeared the sleeping man was finally beginning to stir. That should have been a good thing and, in some ways, it was, but she could not help but worry. Were they about to see the new, post-explosion Richard Castle?

"Wherami?" he mumbled again.

Cautiously, Kate stepped up beside him and placed her hand on his arm. "Rick? Can you hear us?"

His eyes flashed open and he looked in her direction. She could see them red-rimmed and almost bloodshot, but she could also see that he wasn't focusing on her. His gaze danced around her face almost as though he was looking through her rather than at her.

"Where am I?" he managed more clearly that time.

"The hospital." She replied.

"Where?"

"The hospital. There was an explosion in the bank and you were pulled from the rubble."

His eyes shut. "Why?"

Kate looked over at Alexis, whose brow wrinkled. "Dad," she said, "they rescued you. Dad? Dad!"

But he responded no more, not even when Alexis's shook his shoulder. Finally, after a minute, she gave up and looked at Kate rather helplessly. "What happened?"

She shook her head, unable to explain. "I'll go tell the nurses."

She'd barely taken two steps when Alexis stopped her by speaking her name. "This is a good sign, right?" the young girl asked. "He's speaking so that must be good."

"I wish I knew." Kate replied, still unsettled by the event.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, after speaking with the neurologist, Kate did not feel she or Alexis had any better understanding of what was going on. The doctor explained Castle's momentary conversation away as the brain attempting to reset itself after the trauma. The writer most likely was not fully conscious and probably did not even recognize them for who they were at the time. As they spoke, Kate studied Castle's face hoping he would wake up for real, but he never did. In the end, the doctor decided to give the writer yet another cranial scan.

After he was wheeled away, Kate suggested they go and get something to eat, but on their way to the elevator they were intercepted by Ryan and Esposito, who had arrived both to give updates on the situation at the bank, and to find out how Castle was doing. When Kate briefed them, Ryan reacted similarly to Alexis.

"Speaking to you guys—that's definitely a good sign, right?" he asked.

Kate merely shook her head. "We don't know yet. The doctor did not seem too encouraged to be honest."

"Doctors? What do they know?" Esposito quipped.

"Have they made their way through the safety deposit box vault yet? Do you know if they found my grandmother?" Alexis asked impatiently.

Ryan momentarily looked confused before looking over at Esposito and then finally to Kate, who shook her head softly. His expression softening, he turned to the girl. "Alexis, I'm so sorry. There were no other survivors in the vault."

Alexis took a half step back from him. "But…was she in there? Maybe she was somewhere else? Maybe she-"

"I'm sorry," Ryan said again. "All the hostages were accounted for. I didn't personally see your grandmother, but I spoke to the CO on site and he told me. But you know what? I'll, ah, I'll call Laine right now and see where they're at with the ID process, okay?"

While he stepped away, Kate turned to Esposito. "Are they still digging through everything?"

He nodded. "It'll be days before they sort through it all. They had just uncovered the rest of the safety deposit vault when I was there. Then they were going to focus on the main vault, but to be honest there isn't much of that left; just shrapnel. I'm not sure we'll find the robbers. Might not be anything left bigger than a-"

"Espo!"

"Sorry." He apologized quickly to the wide-eyed young girl.

"You…you said they uncovered the vault." She began softly. "So…so do they know how they died then? My gran and the others? Did they suffocate?"

Esposito looked to Kate for permission before continuing. She nodded, and the detective spoke directly to the red-head. "Now this is strictly hearsay, not officially confirmed, but they told me that the vault door was damaged by the blast. Not destroyed, but damaged—enough to off seat it slightly from its secure hinging."

"So they would have had air?" Alexis asked. "Then why did only my dad survive?"

Espo shook his head. "No way to know that at this time. We don't even know if the others died from suffocation. We'll know more after the autopsies."

A moment later, Ryan returned to their conversation. "Spoke with Lanie. They're still getting things organized at the morgue, but she thinks they'll begin the ID process later this evening. Families will then be called in to ID."

"I can go now." Alexis responded immediately.

Ryan shook his head rather sadly. "You can't; you're only seventeen."

"For fifteen more days! Jesus!" She proclaimed.

"We will make sure she's identified." Esposito promised the girl.

"But I want to see her!"

"And you can," Kate chimed in. "Just not tonight."

Clearly irritated, Alexis turned on her heel and stalked back to the writer's hospital room. Kate turned to her colleagues with a rather helpless expression.

"She'll be okay," Ryan said reassuringly.

Kate shook her head. "I'm worried about Castle. They've been talking about neurological damage all day and now that he woke up and didn't recognize us…if he doesn't know her then-"

"Hey," Ryan said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is Castle we're talking about; that man defies the odds."

"Kevin's right." Esposito continued. "If anyone can pull through this it's him."

Kate smiled at the reassurance she didn't know she needed. "Thanks."

* * *

"Oh look...a welcomin' party."

Kate and Alexis both gasped when they heard the light, albeit slightly tired, voice of the writer. Kate whipped around from her position by the hospital room's window and saw him sitting partially upright in the bed being wheeled back into the room by two orderlies. Alexis didn't even wait until the bed was back into its proper position before flinging herself at her father and locking her arms around his neck.

"DAD!"

"Hey pumpkin'," he said, patting her awkwardly with his IV filled right hand.

Completely astonished at what she was witnessing, Kate remained frozen by the windows. In the ten minutes since her partners left her head had been running through worst case scenarios about Castle having brain damage or amnesia from his harrowing ordeal. She imagined horrific scenarios in which he did not recognize her or Alexis, but yet they had to take him home and try to take care of him. She was almost near the point of tears right before he'd arrived.

Still baffled, Kate turned to the male nurses with an expression pleading for any explanation. The taller of the two merely shrugged. "He woke up as we were putting him into the scanner so we pulled him out and called the doctor. He said to bring him back to the room and we did; he'll be here shortly to do an exam."

Kate thanked them distantly before taking two tentative steps towards the still embracing father-daughter duo. Alexis was burying her tear-stained cheeks further and further into her father's hospital gown while Castle had managed to lift up both arms to hug her back. "You're okay, you're okay." The girl sobbed out again and again.

"'course I am." He replied with a level of casualty that only Richard Castle could pull off after a near-death experience.

After a full minute Kate finally became brave enough to step up to the edge of the bed. She kept waiting for it—waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for him to think that Alexis had a different name, or that they were actually located somewhere in Russia, but it never happened. Was it possible that the doctors had been wrong about the brain damage? Could the writer really be…fine?

Terrified, but still wanting to test her theory, she spoke in a hoarse tone, "Rick?"

The man slid his head to the side of the pillow so he could look at her around the pile of orange hair against his face. The corner of his lip that she could see turned upwards. "Kate." He lowered his right hand from Alexis's back and held it out to her. She placed her fingertips into his palm and he closed his hand around them.

"Hi," was all she could manage at that moment.

His grip on her hand got a little tighter. "Hi."

She fought to keep a stray tear from escaping her eye so she turned her head towards the wall to shield that side of her face from view. Clearing her throat she asked, "Do...do you, um, remember what happened?"

Alexis released her father from her death grip and instead sat on the side of the bed at his hip. Both women gazed curiously at the man's face as his eyes darted back and forth and his brow wrinkled.

"The bank…the C-4 exploded?" he said finally, though the statement sounded more like a guess.

Kate almost laughed; that was an understatement. "It really exploded. Rick-"

But before she could detail too much, the neurologist entered the room and said, "Well hello Mr. Castle. Welcome back." He pulled out an iPad with the writer's information and reviewed it briefly. "I just have some routine questions for you. Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"What is your full name?"

"Richard Alexander Edgar Rodgers Castle."

The doctor looked up from his tablet, obviously perplexed look on his face. He glanced over at Kate who gave him a single nod, confirming that the answer, while a mouthful, was an accurate one. With a shrug, the neurologist turned back to his device and asked, "Birth date?"

"April first, seventy-one."

"And today's date...or the date you went into the bank will be sufficient," he said.

For the first time, Castle hesitated before answering. He shut his eyes and pursed his lips. "I…it was a Monday...October...ninth?" he guessed.

Kate smiled; he was only off by a day, which was fairly good for his usual average. To the doctor, she explained, "In fairness, he doesn't usually know the date."

Castle shook his head. "That's true; I don't."

The neurologist chuckled. "Ok, Mr. Castle; you passed the test. I still want to do another scan in a little bit, but for now you can visit with your family."

Castle thanked the man and, once he was gone, turned back to the faces of the women who lined either side of him. With his right hand still intertwined with Kate's, he brought up his left to brush against Alexis's arm. The young girl turned and captured his hand with hers, bringing it to her face and kissing each of his knuckles. He remained silent for several moments before gasping suddenly.

"Oh! Where's mother? Is she in this hospital or...is...she...oh." Castle's voice drifted off when Alexis's bottom lip began to tremble and the gentle smile evaporated from Kate's face.

"Dad." Alexis began tearfully, but there was no need. The ever observant writer understood the situation. He dropped Kate's hand and opened up his arms to her, allowing his daughter to collapse into them again.

"It's okay, Alexis." He held her tight for a moment before looking up to Kate for more of an explanation. "What happened to her? Shrapnel from the explosion?"

Kate shrugged, wishing she could give him a better answer. "We don't know yet, but Rick." She paused to take in a deep breath. She didn't want to tell him. She wanted him to rest, recover, and be awake for more than ten minutes before she weighed him down with the burden of reality, but doing so would not have been fair. She knew him; she knew her partner. She knew that he would want to know and she could not blame him, for if the situations were reversed she would want to know as well.

"What?" he asked when she'd been silent a few seconds too long.

"You…you were the only survivor."

Immediately, his face flushed and his arms around Alexis's back went slack. "I...only...Beckett?"

Her heart wrenched at his wrinkled brow and at the pain she saw reflected back in his eyes. She shook her head quickly. "I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more, but that's all we know right now—they're still assessing the scene. I don't want to speculate."

Despite Alexis's weight on top of him, he attempted to sit up in bed. When he winced in agony both women jumped in to scold him simultaneously. He held up his hand to silence them, and took a moment to catch his breath. Alexis remained seated beside him rather than on top of him and he was able to sit up with a straighter spine. "Beckett it's me—speculate."

Kate nodded. "This isn't my theory, just what Espo got from the men at the scene—off the record. The best guess at this time is that the safety deposit vault saved you all from the blast, but because it was a sealed vault…" Though his brain must still have been sluggish, the writer's eyes lit with understanding as her voice trailed off.

"How long were we in there?"

"Twenty-seven hours."

"Jesus." He cursed, rolling his head back against the pillows. His eyes remained close for a few moments and when he opened them he looked down at his body and hands, as though he was almost surprised they still existed. "But I…"

"You were barely alive when they pulled you out." Kate informed him gently. "Apparently the blast had off seated the vault door from its hinging, but not enough to fill the space with oxygen—or so we're getting at this time."

While he looked at her wide-eyed, Alexis wound her arms around his neck again. "We were so worried, Dad."

Nodding to her partner, Kate backed her way away from the bed. "I'll give you two a minute. I want to text the boys, anyway."

Kate turned and walked from the room without looking back. As she crossed the threshold and shut the door behind her, she pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick message in the group chat with her colleagues Ryan and Esposito. The former's response was a rapid, _Thank God_. Esposito's took another minute until he replied with, _Unbelievable; the man isn't human._

The detective chuckled at the message. There had been many a day when she questioned whether or not the writer was a real person or a cartoonish character sent to planet Earth to annoy her, but in that moment she could not have be happier for any—even an absurd—explanation.

* * *

"He wants to see you."

"Hmm?" Kate started from her position leaning against the wall. She had been texting with her father, Captain Gates, Lanie and several others in rapid succession. It was no surprise that they were all thrilled to hear the writer was alert after overcoming seemingly impossible odds. Looking up, she saw Alexis stepping out of Castle's hospital room, the tracks of dried tears still evident on her face.

"My dad wants to see you." The girl repeated.

Kate nodded, slipped her phone into her pocket, and pushed herself away from the wall. As she passed Alexis, she gave the girl's arm a squeeze. Then, she cautiously walked into the hospital room, half afraid the writer would have passed out and she would not get the chance to have a one-on-one conversation with him—something that, barely seven hours earlier, she didn't think would ever happen again.

Castle sat in bed, cautiously looking at the IVs attached to the back of his right hand. She stepped up beside him, slipped her hands in her back jean pockets and breathed, "Hey."

He looked up immediately. "Hey."

Shaking her head, she sighed, "I'm so sorry about your mom, Castle. She was a great lady; I'm sorry I didn't get to know her better."

He bobbed his head. "Thanks. I...I don't think it's sunk in yet. Everything's still a little hazy and I have a wicked headache." He brought his left hand up to rub his temple gingerly.

"You need to rest."

"I will. Alexis said you were taking care of her?"

Kate's face flushed and she dipped her chin. "Oh, hardly. I stayed with her at the loft last night and I will until you can come home—you don't have to worry-but the boys are helping, too."

"Thank you."

The level of gratitude in his voice made it seem as though she had dug through the wreckage with her bare hands in order to pull him free. (Which, in hindsight, had she had any inkling he was alive beneath the rubble she absolutely would have done.) Kate didn't think what she was doing as all that heroic. Actually, she didn't think about it at all. No question existed in her mind; it simply was what needed to be done. "What are partners for?"

He hummed and allowed his eyes to drift shut. "Take Alexis home please."

Kate almost laughed. "Oh I don't think she'll be leaving your side any time soon." In fact, she was shocked the girl had even agreed to leave for the duration of their conversation.

Castle shook his head. "No, I told her to go. She looks exhausted."

"Don't think either of us slept very much last night."

He grunted in response.

"We might be able to come back a little later?" she offered. True, it was getting late in the evening and regular visiting hours would be over, but her badge could do incredible things.

Sluggishly, the writer waived his hand at her. "No, no. Stay home, rest. Come back tomorrow."

She could hear lethargic tone in his voice and realized he was getting tired. He had been fairly alert for over half an hour, so this made perfect sense, yet it also scared her. What if they left and he went back to sleep and something went wrong? What if he never regained consciousness again? Rationally, she knew this was unlikely, but still she feared, so she said carefully, "Only if you promise us not to go anywhere."

Though his eyes were still shut, a grin crossed his face. "Mmm you can cuff me to the bed if you like."

And there he was—the Richard Castle she thought she'd never see again. Smirk on his face, joke on his lips. Years earlier, it would have made her want to punch him, but in that moment, it nearly made her break down.

God, oh god. He wasn't dead. He was there, alive. His body wasn't damaged; his mind was whole. He was laying there able to joke with her and—god—she had underestimated how good that would make her feel; how relieved.

"I-I'm glad you're okay, Castle."

She tried to make those her parting words, tried to keep her voice strong and even, but of course she had failed. Her voice waivered at several points and her breath had hitched just as she said his name. Before she could take even half a step away, his eyes popped open and he suddenly seemed more alert than before.

"Hey, hey—don't cry over me. I'm fine." He lifted his left arm and reached out, beckoning her closer. "C'mere."

A betraying tear slipping down her cheek, she stepped closer and his arm slid against hers until he could cup her elbow and pull her in. Just as Alexis had done, she leaned down over him and gave him as best a hug she could while he lay in the bed, still surrounded by wires and tubes. She sunk against him, feeling his warm chest beneath hers and almost let go entirely and broke down into full sobs, but she managed to keep herself in check knowing that in a moment she had to join Alexis in the hallway. She gutted her way through the hug and even managed to offer a fractured smile when she slid out of his embrace.

"We'll, um, see you tomorrow. Can we bring you anything?"

Castle glanced down at himself, and then back up at her. "Pants?"

Despite her remaining tears, Kate let out a breathy laugh. "Pants; okay. You got it. See you, Castle."

He smiled as he watched her go. "Until tomorrow, Kate."


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

"Dad you're walking!" Alexis observed when she and Kate entered Castle's hospital room promptly at eight a.m. the following morning. Had Kate not seen it with her own eyes, she might not have believed it, but there he was standing just a few feet from his bed making his way steadily forward. Granted, he leaned heavily on the pole holding his two IV bags and he reached out for the edge of the bed greedily, but he was still supporting his weight on two feet and that was impressive given what he'd gone through in the prior forty-eight hours.

"Barely." The writer grunted when he flopped down on the end of the bed. Then, with great irritation, he proclaimed, "I had to pee sitting down!"

The younger girl's nose scrunched. "Gross, Dad." Castle shrugged off her displeasure.

Kate stepped further into the room and observed the mostly empty tray of food resting on the table beside the bed. It appeared Castle ate every bit of what was on the plate, but left half a cup of pineapple, which made sense; Castle generally only ate pineapple if it was fresh cut. Shaking her head at the fact that she even knew that, she turned to him and asked, "Did you have another CT scan overnight?"

"Yes and the doctor said he was concerned the results looked abnormal."

"Is that a result of the bombing or a medical discovery they're just making now?" she replied without even thinking first. While Alexis's expression seemed slightly offended, the writer laughed.

"Very funny, Beckett. I like it; we could all do with a little macabre humor right now. Anyway, he said it could have just been because I moved during the test, so they're going to scan me again today to see if I can go home."

The red-head's expression brightened. "You might be able to come home today, Dad?"

He nodded. "No reason not to, Pumpkin. I feel fine. I mean, I'm tired and a little shaky, but I'm not suffering any ill effects. While she was wheeling me back to my room, the overnight nurse, who really could work on her bedside manner," he added as an side, "was telling me all about things she saw during her shifts on this floor—people who didn't remember their names, their families, or even how to count but I don't have any of that. I still know the alphabet and how to kill a victim while hiding it from the police."

"Probably best not to broadcast that last one." Kate cautioned.

He smiled. "Fair enough. But seriously I don't think I have any lapses in memory—I even remember what happened in the bank up until the point where they put us in that vault."

"You remember the bomb?" Alexis asked.

The writer's brow wrinkled as he thought. "Kind of. I remember sitting down in the vault and turning to Mother, making a joke and then telling her that I loved her. And then…maybe a loud noise? I'm not sure. It gets a little foggy from there, but I don't imagine that's abnormal." He sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "Anyway, I'm really hoping the results of the CT scan are clean because I'd like to get out of here. I need to…make arrangements…"

Kate's heart sunk. What a terrible burden he had in addition to trying to recover from the traumatic event he faced. He would not have to bear it alone, though. "You need to focus on getting better." She reminded him. "We'll help you with everything else."

The writer gave her a cautious, borderline offended look. "I don't want Alexis to have to do that."

"I'll be fine Dad." The girl responded defiantly even as Kate shook her head and clarified her response.

"No, no—sorry. 'We' meaning the boys and me. Ryan and Esposito are on their way to the morgue this morning to officially identify Martha's body. After an event of this scale they don't release bodies right away. I'm sure it'll be a week or more, so you have plenty of time."

He gave her an appreciative look. "Thanks Kate."

"I can help, you know."

The writer reached out his hand and snagged on to his daughter's arm. "I know you can, Sweetie, and if you would pick out the outfit that Gram will wear for the funeral I'd appreciate it very much, but you don't have to worry about the other stuff. You need to focus on…hey, shouldn't you be in school? Is it a weekday?" he asked, turning his head to Kate.

"Wednesday." She confirmed.

"Kate said I didn't have to go to school."

As the writer's jaw dropped, Kate quickly clarified. "That's not exactly what I said. I called the principal first thing this morning and he agreed that because of the media firestorm not to mention the stressful events that it made the most sense for Alexis to remain at home for the rest of the week. They are, however, going to be messengering over her assignments and class transcripts so she doesn't get behind."

Alexis folded her arms over her chest. "I'm already ahead in most of the classes, anyway."

Kate smiled; she didn't doubt this.

As the information processed in the writer's brain, his brow wrinkled. "Media firestorm?"

Kate nodded. "As you might imagine, the sole survivor of an event like this would be a media focus no matter who they were, but as you're you…"

"How do they know it's me? Don't they usually keep the victim's names quiet as long as they can?"

"Either an EMT or uniform leaked it when they pulled you out." Kate speculated. Though she had checked with her colleagues, the identity of the media's 'inside source' had not yet been discovered.

"Oh." He sighed and shut his eyes. "Bright side—book sales will go up." When he opened his eyes again, he grinned at each of them in turn. "Who wants to vacation somewhere tropic this year?"

While Kate groaned, "Castle," his daughter scolded him with, "Dad—you're awful."

He merely shrugged. "Just trying to find the silver lining."

* * *

"Okay, steady; take it easy." Kate calmly encouraged when they stopped outside the loft. Alexis, who had previously been supporting her father's left side, ducked out of his embrace to unlock the door. The writer groaned and leaned more heavily to his right, where Kate was supporting him with his arm around her shoulders and her hands at his waist. She could feel his body trembling against hers at the exertion. She understood that feeling well as his weight was nearly collapsing her knees, but she refused to complain; they were almost through.

"Just another minute."

"I can't—I can't. I have to sit." He uttered out, breathless.

"Go get him a chair." Kate commanded the younger girl, who raced inside and disappeared towards the kitchen. With her arms solidly around her waist, Kate half-dragged Castle forward. "C'mon. Three more steps and you're inside and then you can sit."

He grunted and grumbled, but they made it—barely. Castle collapsed into the wooden chair Alexis placed just in front of the door and heaved out a heavy breath. Kate released her arms from around his waist and took a step back, shaking them out. She had never given much thought to the differences in their weights until she had to haul him out of the passenger side of her cruiser ten minutes earlier. It wasn't as though she minded—she would do anything to help him—but this was almost beyond her ability.

"I'm sorry." Castle rested his hands against his thighs, winced, and then looked up at the women apologetically.

"Don't apologize, Dad."

"But I'm just so…pathetic."

"You're not pathetic; you just survived a traumatic event," Kate said, wanting to emphasis the word _survive_ as he had been the only person to do so.

"Remember what the doctor said," Alexis continued, "that even simple tasks would seem really hard for the next week?"

"Exactly—and you just walked from the car and stood in the elevator to get here—that's further than you've gone before, so don't feel bad; it's great progress." Kate reassured with a smile. "Rest for as long as you need and then we'll help you get in bed."

Castle rounded his shoulders and nodded. Then, after a moment's consideration he said, "I should probably go to the bathroom first."

Alexis looked hesitantly at the detective and then back down at her father. "Do we have to help you with that?"

"I'll do it." Kate volunteered. During her father's bout with alcoholism she had the misfortune of having to help him with a few personal care tasks which included seeing him naked during several instances. As they were moments she wished she could have avoided, she wanted to save Alexis from the same fate.

Rick grunted and pushed himself up from the chair. Kate scooted under his right arm as he quipped, "Always trying to see me naked Beckett."

As the slow moving duo made their way across the hall into the master suite, she said, "Yep this is just how I pictured it, too." Oh, yeah, she had absolutely assumed the first time she saw Castle naked would be after he'd survived a dramatic building explosion, could barely stand on his own, and she had to help him take off his pants so he could pee. It was her every fantasy come to life….except, not quite. In all her imagined scenarios there had been less drama and more romance, but since when did reality ever match expectation?

"Do you need to rest on the bed a minute?" she asked midway across the bedroom as he leaned more heavily against her.

He grunted as they trudged forward. "No, no. I'll make it then I can lean on the counter."

It was a tight squeeze through the bathroom door, but they managed it and Castle turned to grip onto the bathroom counter as soon as they were over the threshold, just as he'd promised. Kate rolled her neck, glad for the absence of his weight and watched as he hobbled his way towards the toilet. She had not been in the master bath previously so she gazed around while he made slow progress. She was not at all surprised to see both a walk in shower with opaque glass tiles and a sunken tub filled with massaging jets. Also, the bathroom was about the size of many of the smaller studio apartments in the city, which, again, did not shock her.

When Castle reached the end of the counter he hesitated. The toilet was tucked between the tub and the wall and there were not many places to hold on. Observing this, she asked, "You need help?"

"No, no. I got it, I think."

She nodded and turned away from him as he shuffled his way towards the toilet. "Okay. I'll wait outside then."

"No it's fine; you don't have to."

She heard a rustle of clothing as he presumably pulled down his sweat pants and then the clink of the toilet seat against the back; he had apparently sat down rather hard, which given his weakened state was expected. As Kate stared towards the shower in an attempt to give him a small amount of privacy, an unsettling thought hit her. How would Castle bathe in his weakened state?

He had been underground in filthy rubble and while the hospital had wiped off any obvious dirt, he still had not actually had a proper bath or shower, and he'd need one sooner than later. Dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, she considered the options before an idea hit her. "You know, maybe we should get you one of those shower chairs."

"Like, for old people?"

"Not just for old people, Castle. I mean, look at you—you can't stand for a shower right now and that tub? If you got down and couldn't get back up I couldn't help you."

"I'll hire a nurse." He concluded just before flushing the toilet.

Feeling it was safe to turn around, Kate did so with an arched eyebrow. "A big burly male nurse? I'm sure he'd love to give you a bath."

The writer frowned as he hobbled his way back towards the sinks. "You should probably get the shower chair."

She chuckled. "That's what I thought. I'm sure someplace in this city has them in stock. I'll call around and maybe Ryan can pick it up. Or my dad; he said he'd do anything to help."

Castle met her eye, but only briefly before reaching out to dry his hands on an evergreen-toned towel. "He shouldn't. I mean...everyone's already doing a lot…"

"And none of us mind, Castle." She pointed out while ducking under his left arm and supporting him on their journey back towards the bed. "We care about you and we're glad you're okay."

Castle said no more during his journey towards the bed, which actually took almost two full minutes by the time he reached his side the trip normally would have taken under ten seconds. Kate pulled back the linens as he balanced on his own, and he collapsed forward just in time, groaning as he pulled one leg into the bed and then the other. "God, who would have thought oxygen deprivation did this? It's worse than having the flu."

He made it sound as though he'd held his breath for a few minutes too long underwater, but that could not have been further from reality. Earlier that morning, just after Castle returned to his room from his CT scan, Ryan and Esposito visited and gave them an update on the situation at the bank scene. The initial autopsy reports from those in the vault did show that they died from suffocation. One of the more experienced crime scene investigators theorized that though the vault door had been knocked loose in the blast, the debris crushing down on top of it did not allow for very much oxygen to penetrate. As the hostage closest to the door, Castle had received the majority of the fresh air that made its way inside. Esposito concluded this explanation by saying that it was just at theory, but it made sense and it was the only explanation they had at that time.

After hearing this news, the writer had been largely silent and Kate could not say she blamed him. As someone who appreciated facts and detailed answers this theory satisfied her. Yet, had she been in the writer's place, she wasn't sure it would have. She would have been second guessing her position in the vault and wondering what would have happened if the door had cracked open just a little wider or if the debris had fallen just a little differently.

Even as it was, he'd barely received enough oxygen to survive. The neurologist had cautioned him as to just how lucky he was. When he entered the ambulance his blood oxygen had been at a near lethal level and to come through without lasting effects was a downright miracle.

"It wasn't just oxygen deprivation; your whole body was shutting down, Castle. Even just another hour and-"

He cut her off before she had to say it. "I know." With a heavy exhale, he leaned back against the pillows, but almost immediately his face contorted into an expression of discomfort. He shifted around trying to get comfortable, but struggling. It seemed he had inadvertently sat on the edge of the topmost pillow and his weight was preventing a proper adjustment. "What the—something's wrong with these stupid…"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Kate leaned forward to assist him. "Here, let me…just scoot down a bit." He did as she requested and she was able to pull the pillow out from beneath his butt. She pushed it back against the headboard with the other and he was finally able to recline. "There is that..." Her voice drifted off when she realized just how close their faces were. As she hovered above him, her hands on the pillow at either side of his head, their noses were almost touching. He gazed up at her, not curious or annoyed, but serene; relaxed.

Kate gazed down into his azure eyes and her heart stuttered in her chest. She had come so close to losing him—so close. Barely thirty-six hours earlier she curled up in the exact spot he lay in and cried herself to sleep, devastated at the loss of the man she loved with all her heart. Now, he was there with her and her still grief-stricken brain couldn't resist the urge, not when she feared she'd never have the chance.

Without pausing to consider, Kate lowered her face and brushed her lips against his. When she didn't feel him kiss her back, she recoiled, mortified. "I-I'm sorry."

"No." He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could slide away. She gazed back, tentative, but he smiled at her. "Never apologize for kissing me, Beckett; I was just surprised."

She shook her head when she could feel betraying tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "I was just…I never thought I'd see you again."

"Kate." He reached out his hand to capture the tear sliding down her cheek, but she pulled away, just out of range of his touch.

Clearing her throat, she put back on her tough, Detective Beckett exterior. "You should rest; I'll check on you later."


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

Kate found that the first few hours after they brought the writer home from the hospital passed with amazing speed. After leaving Castle in his bed, she went immediately to the pharmacy to pick up his array of necessary medications. The doctor had explained that some of the medications needed to rouse the writer from his nearly comatose state were highly addictive and they simply could not stop giving them to him; he had to be weaned off. Thus, his meds also came with a detailed list of dosage instructions, which Alexis had guarded closely.

Back at the loft, she gave the writer his appropriate medications and then left him to rest while Alexis prepared dinner and she called around to find a shower seat available for pickup that day. Luck was on her side as the second place she called had one available and they were open until seven that evening. Even better, the store was relatively nearby her apartment, so she could pick up a few changes of clothes on the trip.

Kate knew that both her male partners and her father continually offered to help, but she opted to just rush out herself, thinking it would be easier. Of course, she'd failed to take into account Manhattan rush-hour traffic on a weekday before departing on her journey, but she made it to the store well before it closed, which was all that mattered. Lugging the chair under one arm, she returned to her apartment, packed another bag full of necessary items, and then decided to take a cab back to the loft as the seat was quite cumbersome.

"Is that it?" Alexis asked with a less-than-impressed tone upon Kate's return.

She nodded in confirmation and placed the white plastic chair down on the floor just outside the master suite.

The red-head walked closer to examine it. Then she looked at Kate and shrugged. "Guess I was expecting something more."

"Well I'm glad this is it, because anything more would have been really heavy to carry for that long. Anyway, how's your dad? Did he need anything while I was gone?"

The younger girl shook her head. "No. I checked on him maybe forty-five minutes ago and he was still sleeping, but I was just about to check again to see if he wanted to eat something."

"I got it." Kate hoisted up the chair once more and carried it with her into the bedroom, which, now that the sun had set, was mostly dark. She didn't want to startle him awake, but also knew he needed to eat and not completely destroy his regular sleeping schedule, so she walked softly to the bathroom, deposited the chair inside the shower, and then returned to the bed intent on waking the writer. Just a foot from him, she realized he was already awake—and shaking violently.

"Oh god, Rick." She placed a hand on his arm and then reached out to turn on the bedside light with the other. Once the room was lit she could see that he was curled up in a fetal positon on his side, his forehead slicked in sweat. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"My head." He managed, though his voice was filled with agony.

"It hurts? How bad? Do we need to take you back to the hospital?" she asked, her heart sinking towards her feet. Of course it had been too easy. Of course the ill effects were sitting in. Of course he could not escape a building falling on him with noting being wrong with him at all.

"N-no." He managed. "Don't want to go back."

"Well you might not have a choice." She cautioned. Turing to the array of pill bottles on his bedside table, she found the painkillers and began to read the dosage instructions. "You took one of these when I brought the meds in, right? The pain pills" She asked, holding out the bottle so she could see.

"N-no; didn't need one."

"Rick!" She half-scolded. The doctor had warned about taking the pain medication regularly to keep his discomfort from becoming too severe—at least for the first two days home, anyway. She swiftly unscrewed the cap off the pill bottle, dumped one of them into her hand and then put the cap back on the bottle. "C'mon." She encouraged. "Sit up so you can take this."

Very slowly and with obvious discomfort he did as she asked. She pressed the pill into his palm and then waited until it was in his mouth before handing him the glass of water. She could see by the way the water moved in the glass just how badly his hands were shaking; it was unsettling. "Do you think you could eat a little something? Might make you feel better?"

He merely shook his head, closed his eyes and fell back into a balled up position on the mattress looking as pale as she'd ever seen him. "Okay, just try to relax." She coached, resting her hand against his bicep. As she still felt his body tremoring, she asked, "Are you cold?" He shook his head. "Okay, then I'm going to get you a cold washcloth for your face.

She swiftly moved to the bathroom, grabbed a clean washcloth out of the cabinet, ran it under the tap and then squeezed it out so it wouldn't drip. Returning to the bed, she folded it in half and pressed it down over the writer's forehead and eyes. Then, she feathered her fingers through his damp hair before combing them down the back of his neck and gently massaging the top of his shoulder. "Is this okay or making it worse?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"'sokay." He mumbled out.

Kate glanced over at the clock beside his bed as she continued her gentle touches and massages of his shoulders. She would wait twenty minutes, which was enough time for the medication to begin working, and then, if he was still in a great deal of pain, they would need to seriously consider returning to the hospital, no matter how much Rick didn't want to.

* * *

"Is my dad okay?"

Weary, Kate rubbed her fingers across her right eye before looking up at the red-headed girl. "Um, yeah, I think so. When I went to check on him, his head really hurt. I got him to take one of his pain pills and I think he fell back to sleep. I'm going to check in about twenty minutes; we really need to get him to eat something—all he's had since he came home was that toast you made him."

With a long exhale, Kate shuffled her way to the living area, collapsed down on the closest edge of the sofa, and raked her fingers back through her hair. Watching Castle's body shake and tremble for almost fifteen minutes had been deeply upsetting for her. She wanted more than anything to take away his pain, but yet she could do nothing to help him; none of them could.

Witnessing his body react in ways he did not permit, she was taken back to her college days when coming home for summer break meant finding her father curled up on the small bathroom rug, his body shaking so hard he couldn't stand up right. That was still back when he insisted he had his alcoholism under control and he could stop any time he wanted. He would demonstrate this by quitting cold turkey and thus went through two days of nasty detox. While Castle's shaking and her father's had two very different points of origin, the upsetting effect remained the same.

"You look like you could use a break." The younger girl observed wisely.

Kate sat up straight and sucked in a breath."Wha—no. No I'm fine." Actually, she was exhausted, but it was better she carry the burden, not Alexis.

"If you want to leave, you can."

Kate's eyes widened and she looked at the girl very seriously. "I don't want to leave, Alexis. I have no problem being here with you, helping your father. Do you want me to go?" The girl shrugged, so Kate said, "Then as long as you're not upset I'm here, I'm staying."

Alexis stepped forward and softened her tone. "I'm not upset you're here. I…I'm glad, because you make my dad happy, but you also don't have to beat me to doing everything; I can help."

Feeling the need to lighten the moment, Kate said, "Oh good. You'll help him shower tomorrow morning, then?"

"Ah…sure."

Smiling at the girl's commitment despite obvious discomfort, Kate stood and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm kidding. And I know you're capable of helping. Like making dinner, that was a big help."

"You still look like you need a break. Let me sit with him all night."

Kate refused though with a pleasant expression. "No, you won't be able to help him to the bathroom if he needs it. Maybe tomorrow night."

"Okay, well, still—if you need me for anything…"

Kate reached out and stroked a hand down the girl's arm. "You need to get your sleep tonight. Remember: you have to catch up on your schoolwork tomorrow. Let me worry about your dad, okay?"

Alexis merely shrugged. "I'm always worried about him."

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night Kate awoke and almost immediately grumbled at the uncomfortable ache in her neck. Not wanting to be too far from Castle in case he needed anything, she'd curled up in the chair beside his bed and attempted to sleep with her head propped between the back of the chair and her shoulder; obviously her neck had not liked this plan. She sat upright, rubbing the kinked spot with her right hand, and intended to shift her position to be more comfortable, when she heard a sniffling noise that drew her attention. At first she thought it was just Castle snuffling in his sleep, but the more she listened, the more she realized it sounded like crying.

"Castle?" she said softly, unwinding her legs and arms from the blanket in her lap.

"S-sorry."

"Wha—no. don't apologize. Is it your head? Does it hurt again?" she asked. She leaned her hands against the closest edge of the bed and slid them steadily across until she came in contact with the writer's body. She cautiously slid her hands around in the dark and realized she had hold of his arm. Moving northward, she reached his shoulder. His t-shirt was not damp around the neck, which she felt to be a good sign; even if his head did hurt at least he wasn't trembling and sweating like before.

"'snot my head." He sniffled.

"Okay. What is it? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I…I was having a dream and I was back in the bank and Mother was there and these strange things were happening—can't really remember—but when I woke up it hit me. She's gone; I'll never see her again."

"Oh Castle." Kate sighed. She climbed up on to the mattress and moved close to him until she sat on her hip at his side, both her hands resting on his arm. "I'm so sorry."

She'd been waiting for him to break down—to grieve—ever since the news broke. She suspected the medication-fog not to mention the sheer shock of being the lone survivor would delay his emotional reaction, but it appeared it was all catching up with him in that moment.

"It's just…it's so unfair. She was still so young, so full of life. She should have gone on to do more plays, more theatre…and I—I didn't even get to say goodbye."

"I know." She grazed her hand across his chest and hugged him, bringing her forehead to rest against the side of his head. "It is unfair, Castle; these things always are, but she knew how much you loved her."

"Yeah." He rasped out.

Kate held him close for several more minutes before he requested she help him to the bathroom. She turned on the bathroom light and then aided him in his journey. She waited patiently as he relieved himself and then splashed some water on his face while washing his hands, before helping him back to bed. As he finished mopping up his face with tissues, she returned to the bathroom and shut off the light and then walked back to her makeshift chair bed.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sleeping on the floor?"

"No; the chair."

"Why aren't you in the bed?"

She hesitated before answering. In her mind, such a move wasn't appropriate being that they were in their most bizarre state of relationship limbo to date. Furthermore, she did not want to risk disrupting his sleep any since he needed his rest to heal. "I'm fine over here," she said as a non-answer.

"Kate. Get in the bed."

She hesitated again, but only for a moment; the ache in her neck proved convincing enough. She groped her way towards the edge of the bed, peeled back the covers, and slipped inside, trying to stay towards her edge of the bed as best she could. She'd only be resting against the cloud-like pillow for a few moments when she heard her companion take in a ragged breath and she thought he may have been crying again.

Her heart breaking for him, she skimmed her hand beneath the covers until she found his elbow and used it to trace her way towards his hand, which was resting across his chest. She placed her hand flat against the back of his and sad, "You should try to get back to sleep."

"I know." He placed his other hand over top of hers and they remained that way until after they'd both fallen back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

Kate awoke the following morning to the sound of a muffled curse. She opened her eyes to see the writer hunched over at the end of the bed, his fingertips resting against the mattress. "Are you okay?" she gasped, shoving the sheets off her as frantically as I could.

"'m fine." He uttered through gritted teeth. "Just caught my toe against the edge of the bed when I was losing my balance."

She hurried over to him, locked her arms around his waist and pulled him against her. "You should have woken me up."

"You were so cute sleeping I didn't want to." He replied simply. She rolled her eyes as she slipped an arm around his back in order to help him. Once they made it to the bathroom door he grunted out, "I got it from here." So she held herself back and waited patiently for him to use the bathroom in peace. Once he reappeared in the door, he only needed to lean a hand against her shoulder to make it back to the end of the bed.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

He nodded his head. "Physically—better. I'm actually a little hungry."

She smiled. "That's a good sign."

"It is."

"And…how are you feeling other than physically?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to outright say, "how do you feel about your mother's death this morning."

He offered a meek smile. "As okay as can be expected, I suppose. I know that grief is a process so I'll just keep moving through. Maybe Alexis and I can talk this afternoon."

Kate nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. And you know if you ever-"

"I know." He smiled.

After she mirrored his expression she said, "So…should I make you some eggs? Or would you like something else. I'll bring you whatever you're hungry for."

"Kate." He cautioned. "Please…I feel like a total shut in. At least let me sit on the couch."

She nodded, knowing that Alexis would appreciate seeing her father up and about as well. "Sure, Castle; c'mon." Then, she slid her hand beneath his arm to guide him on the two room journey.

* * *

As predicted, the young red-head was quite thrilled to see her father out of bed. Since Castle reclined on the couch to eat his eggs and toast, the two women joined him: Alexis by his feet and Kate on the chair nearby. The weight of loss still heavy in all their minds, they tried to keep the conversation light, but the subject of the missing red-head was eventually brought up so their breakfast ended on a rather somber note.

Once Alexis went off to work on her missed schoolwork, Castle informed Kate that he wanted to take a proper shower—well, as proper a shower as he could take while seated in the chair she'd acquired. She cautioned him about resting more, but he continually refuted her. He wanted to shower and feel clean, and then he would rest.

"You're sure you're okay?" She asked, hovering by the bathroom door as he reached a long arm into the glass shower and cranked the water on to an acceptable temperature.

His annoyance evident he said, "I can take three steps on my own, Beckett."

"I was asking more about pulling off your pants."

"Your continued desire to see me naked is flattering, but I swear I'll be fine."

She gave him a look but then nodded in agreement to letting him have privacy while he showered. "Okay, but I'll be right outside the door if you need anything."

After stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door, Kate turned to face the bed and realized that in her haste to make the writer breakfast she had neglected to return and tidy up the side she slept on. She pulled the sheets and duvet cover back into place and then fluffed the pillows before stepping back to admire her work and make sure everything looked as it had before she slept in the bed.

With nothing else to do but wait for Castle to finish showering, Kate sat down in the chair beside the bed, folded her legs and closed her eyes. She shouldn't have been tired. All things considered she had a decent amount of rest, but she was still behind as far as sleep went for that week. By the time she caught up she'd probably pull the graveyard shift again, but such was her life. She could sleep when she retired.

Kate doubted she had been sitting in the chair more than seven or eight minutes when she heard a loud thud and a crack emanating from the bathroom. She jumped up so quickly that she nearly stumbled to the ground when trying to untangle her legs. Rushing to the entrance of the bathroom she called out, "Rick? What happened?"

"I'm fine; I just slipped."

"Slipped, wha-" But her words were stolen by a grunt, groan, and smacking nose coming from the bathroom. Without second thought she opened the door. "I'm coming in."

"No, I'm fine; I'm fine."

But when Kate opened the door she saw that the writer was not fine—not fine at all. Through the opaque glass tiles she could see his body low in the shower and assumed he was on his hands and knees. The chair, which had previously been very close to the shower spray, now rested several feet further back. As she stepped in the room, trying to take in the scene, she could see the outline of the writer move, but only for a moment before he grunted and the chair slid further back.

"Jesus, Castle; let me help you."

Without second thought she charged into the shower to find the man on his knees, desperately griping to the chair with wet hands. She assumed he had been trying to use the chair as leverage to stand, but thanks to the slippery shower and his large frame, the chair simply had refused to cooperate. How he ended up on the floor of the shower to begin with was still a mystery, but one she could not deal with at that moment.

As he tried and failed to stand using the chair for a third time, Kate said, "Hold on. Just stop. If I brace this chair against the shower wall then you can probably use it to get up, okay? Just rest there a minute while I move it closer."

Nodding, the writer released the chair. Kate picked it up and turned it so that instead of facing the shower head, it faced the front shower wall which pushed the chair back against the opposite wall thereby making it more stable. When she turned back to Castle, she saw that he had sat back on his haunches. Given that he was naked, she inadvertently caught a full frontal view of him and let out a soft, "Oh," of surprise. Well, there he was; Richard Castle in all his glory.

Knowing that was not the moment to stare unnecessarily, she cleared her throat and asked, "Ready?" He nodded and she stood back so he could use the chair to hoist himself up. Fortunately, her idea worked and the chair did not move. Still, in his exhausted state, Castle only had enough energy to sit down in the chair and remain in the shower. Kate reached out and plucked the steel gray towel from the nearby hook and held it out to him. He rubbed it across his face before moving it down his body to soak up the remaining water droplets.

"Sorry I'm so pathetic."

"You're not pathetic." She reminded. "You're recovering from a traumatic event."

He grunted as though he didn't believe her. "But it's so ridiculous. I wasn't hurt—why don't my legs want to work?"

"Wasn't hurt…" She repeated with incredulity. "Rick, you were deprived of proper oxygen for over a day. No, your legs aren't broken, but your muscles and nerve endings—every cell in your body is still recovering. It's barely been two days; you need to give yourself more time to heal."

His chin still hanging towards his chest, he confessed, "I don't want to be a burden."

Kate crouched down in front of him and placed her hand at the base of his knee. "Hey, look at me." She waited until he'd done so before continuing. "We thought you were dead. Even if I have to get Espo and Ryan over here to carry you from the bed to the bathroom every few hours you're still not a burden."

"I think they'd have a different opinion on that," he said flatly.

Her smile didn't waver. "You've just got to take it easy and get better so you don't miss any more cases okay? We really could have used you on this one." With that, she pushed herself back into a standing position.

Castle rubbed one edge of the towel through his hair while the other fell loosely to his lap and asked, "Which one?"

She let out a breathy noise of disbelief. Which one? Which other one had she had time to work in the prior three days? "Remember the bank that fell on you?"

He gazed up, his expression perplexed. "But what case? The robbers were killed."

She shook her head. "Remember that man who had the seizure?"

"Sal?"

"Except his name wasn't Sal. He orchestrated the entire thing."

The writer's eyes flared wide and he demanded an explanation, which she gave as succinctly as possible. When she was done, Castle appeared horrorstruck. "I...helped him. I was worried about him and he...killed my mother." He sounded almost nauseated by the time he finished speaking.

She nodded in understanding. Victims turned villains were the hardest cases due to the feelings of anger and betrayal they caused—particularly in this instance. "He killed twenty-five people; he'll be in jail for the rest of his life, I promise you." Though she understood all too well how that was not very much consolation. Taking in a deep breath, she changed the subject entirely. "Just let me know when you're ready to move."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I—Ah!" He yelped when he went to stand and his knees buckled beneath him. Kate reached out and grabbed him under the armpits, guiding him back down to the chair as he cursed.

"It's okay; sit back down. Don't be frustrated."

"Easy for you to say." He snipped.

She shook her head, refusing to accept his poor attitude. "Castle, look how much you did this morning: you walked to the couch, ate breakfast with us, walked back here, and showered yourself—that's tons of activity. Of course you're tired. You just need a nap and then you'll have some more energy."

He nodded, agreeing with reluctance. "Yeah, okay."

After another minute's rest, Castle stood and allowed Kate to help guide him back to the bed which, now that he was naked, was a bit more delicate since she was not entirely sure where to put her hands on his body. Once she'd sat him back beside his pillows, he directed her around the room to retrieve clean clothing for him and she did so with efficiently. She first handed him a t-shirt, which he pulled over his head, and then a long sleeved shirt to go over top. When all that remained in her grasp were boxers and a pair of track pants she asked, "Want help with these?"

He gazed at them for a few moments before looking at her and asking, "Would you think less of me if I said yes."

She smiled. "Not at all." She knelt down and helped him put his feet in the boxers before pulling them up to his knees. Then, with great effort, he stood again, resting one hand against her back and the other on the bed, as she pulled the shorts into their proper position. In doing so, this inadvertently brought her completely eye-level with his crotch. She was so focused on the task at hand, that she didn't stare, but given the position it was impossible not to look. In his fragile state she felt it wrong to think of him in any way but as her friend, yet at the same time in the back of her mind she could not help but think that Richard Castle did not disappoint in any way.

Putting on the track pants was a bit more of a challenge since they were snugger, but they managed and the writer flopped back into bed, clearly exhausted. Kate reached for the sheet to cover him and asked, "Do you need anything else?"

"Time machine." He quipped before leaning back against the pillows. "Just kidding; I'm fine."

Kate's breath hitched in her chest as she watched him. From that angle she could see the underside of his nose and chin and was instantly transported back to two days prior when she had stood outside an ambulance begging to catch a glimpse in order to confirm it was her friend and partner who had been removed from the rubble. He said he was fine, but was he? Was he fine? A shower during which he sat had tired him out so much that he'd hardly been able to walk back to his bed. Rationally, she knew this was just one of the hurdles on the road to recovery but, god, watching him struggle was so hard—so much harder than she thought it would be. She wanted to fix him, she wanted to make him better, but such things were beyond her scope of control.

Backing away from the bed, trying her best to hide her tears, Kate sniffled and the ever-observant writer's eyes popped open. "Hey—are you okay?"

Knowing she would break down without deflection, she joked, "Why wouldn't I be? I finally got to see you naked; life goal achieved."

He reached out and closed his fingers around her wrist. "Kate."

She shook her head, willing her steel armor back into place. "I'm fine. I need to be here for you and Alexis and-"

"Alexis isn't here." He pointed out. "It's just us."

She didn't want to break down in front of him—in front of anyone. She wanted to remain strong until her shower later that day, then she'd let it all out, but he was looking at her so kindly that the tears began flowing before she even realized.

Using his grip on her wrist, Castle drew her in until she stood so close to the edge of the bed that her knees brushed against it. "Hey, hey c'mere."

"It's just…sometimes when I close my eyes I see the rubble of that bank building and I'm right back there looking at the disaster, hearing everyone around me say there's no way anyone could have survived." The fear had been so buried deep inside her the words almost shocked her when they exited her mouth, but they didn't make it less true. "No survivors _"_ was the mantra she'd heard for twenty-seven hours and it was not one she could easily get over.

Castle skimmed his arm from her wrist up to her elbow. "I'm right here Kate."

She nodded as a few tears dropped from the edge of her jaw. "Don't scare me like that again okay?"

"I promise. C'mon." He tugged her close and she didn't shy away. She knelt down on the edge of the bed with her right knee to get enough leverage to climb over him. Once in the center of the mattress, she lay down with her right hand over Castle's chest as he held her close. She rested her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes, cuddling against him until she heard his breathing even out and she knew he had fallen asleep.

* * *

Shortly after nine p.m. that night Kate walked by the master suite and peered inside to see what she thought was the writer asleep with the television they'd rolled in to his room still on. The fact that he had passed out so early despite a ninety minute nap that day did not surprise her in the least. His afternoon was particularly eventful, given his still weary state.

After he woke from his nap and ate lunch, Ryan and Esposito came to not only express their joy that the writer was on the mend, but give an update on what was known about the situation at the bank. After exchanging hugs and making coffee, the quartet sat in the living area where Esposito explained very solemnly that the autopsy had confirmed that Martha along with several of the others in the vault had died from asphyxiation. The plus side was that none of them suffered; they simply never regained consciousness after the concussion of the blast.

Kate feared that Castle would take the news poorly. Or, at the very least, feel unnecessary guilt over it, but he appeared to take it as well as could be expected. He thanked both men for being honest with him and he expressed that he was simply incredibly lucky. Once they left, Castle and his daughter retreated to his office where they talked for over an hour. When they emerged, both appeared to have red-rimmed eyes, though their spirits seemed lighter.

For the remainder of the day, even throughout dinner, Castle seemed to be doing well. He did complain that Alexis had crafted them a healthy, home cooked meal, where as he, still living for the moment, wished to consume only junk food, but the women wouldn't let him; his diet was to remain as low sodium as possible while he was being weaned off his medications and they would comply whether he liked it or not.

Stepping in to the bedroom, Kate carefully picked up the remote from the bedside table and used it to turn the television off. She was just about to turn off the light as well when the writer looked up at her. Evidently, he had never been asleep.

"Sorry," she said, handing the remote out to him. He waved it away and she placed it back on the end table. "You going to bed soon?"

"I guess. I just…why me Beckett?"

"Why you what?" she asked for clarification.

He dusted his fingertips over his chin, gazing off at the now black screen of the television. "I've been lying here wracking my brain trying to figure it out. Why did I survive when no one else did?"

"Because you were closest to the open door; you got the most oxygen." With the autopsy knowledge, their working theory had more or less been confirmed as fact.

He looked up at her, his eyes begging for more of an explanation. "But why was I seated by the door? Is this all part of a larger plan? I can't help but think maybe there's a reason...maybe I need to do something with my life that...matters."

Kate flopped down on the bed beside his hip. This was what she could easily describe as a "classic Castle" moment. Of course the man with an expansive explanation could not accept a simple basic and medical explanation. Everything needed greater meaning, but he was being absurd. He made it sound as though he inherited wealth or won the lottery and frittered away his days playing video games or running amuck in the city, which could not have been further from the truth.

She picked up his hand and gazed at him seriously. "Castle, you don't live an empty life. You bring joy to millions. You help keep the streets of New York safer."

"But is that enough?"

It was enough for her. It was enough to prove without question that he mattered, but as he seemed to be needing more, she thought for a moment before an idea hit her. "Maybe it's not you that's meant to do something—maybe it's your future child; one that hasn't been born yet. Maybe he or she will cure a disease or prevent a war from starting, and, as their father, you'll guide that child into becoming the wonderful man or woman that does this great thing."

His eyes searched hers for a moment before his expression steadily brightened. "Ooh! I like that—and I wouldn't have thought of it! Beckett! I'm rubbing off on you."

She let out a breathy laugh. "Something like that." Though she'd never admit it, there was some truth in his statement. The more time they spent around each other the more she became a bit more Castle-like, and that definitely was not a bad thing.

Gazing off into space again, he thought aloud wistfully. "My future child is going to save the world...that's a lot of pressure."

"Theoretical pressure." She reminded, as her comment had mostly been to assuage his sadness.

"Still...I'm going to need a strong, incredible woman to be that child's mother. Any suggestions?"

The way he was staring at her made Kate's cheeks flush. His unwavering gaze made it clear his question was a rhetorical one. She was the strong, incredible woman he thought of and, given time, she would have no problem being that woman, but they definitely needed time, so for that moment she merely said, "Sure; I'll draw up a list. Now, you need to rest."

Before she could slide away, his fingers closed around her wrist and, when she looked at him, a sad expression had returned. "Why was I sitting by that door?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Kate rotated her wrist so that her hand could fold into his. She gave it a squeeze and said, "Because your story isn't over yet."


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

"You don't have to do that, you know."

Kate looked up from her position in the loft kitchen to see the writer strolling out of his bedroom dressed in his standard plaid button-down and dark jeans. She merely shrugged in response before turning back to the stove to monitor the pan of eggs and griddle of bacon. "I don't mind."

Truly, she didn't. It had been exactly one week since Castle came home from the hospital and she and Alexis had shared the cooking duties ever since. That particular day since Alexis was off to school and her shift started later she was manning the breakfast duties. She figured it was the least she could do with the writer still recuperating and her time staying at the loft coming to an end.

"I'm capable."

She picked up the skillet of scrambled eggs and skillfully divided it between three plates. "But you're still recovering." She reminded.

In the week since he was pulled from the rubble Castle had made a rather miraculous recovery. Within a few days he was able to migrate to the bathroom by himself and shower without the chair, but he still tired quite easily. A few days earlier they'd gone out to dinner—his first real outing since the explosion. The restaurant was only a few blocks away, so they'd walked there, but by the time he got back to the apartment Castle had to go immediately to bed. The doctor said he was recovering at a perfectly normal rate so there was no reason to be concerned. Still, Castle was frustrated and Kate couldn't say she blamed him, which was why she liked to jump in and help where she could.

Castle stopped just beside the stove. "I can make eggs."

"Of course, and your eggs are very good, but your mother's funeral is tomorrow and…" The detective let her voice drift off with a shrug. She pulled all the bacon off the griddle, placed it on a fourth plate, and then looked over at him. "I just like helping."

He took a step towards hers and Kate's face flushed at the intensive gaze he was giving her. "Because you're extraordinary."

Her blush deepened. "Well, n-no." He took a step closer to her and she was tempted to take a step back, unsure of what he was doing, but his gaze kept her rooted to the spot. "I-I just want t-to—what are you doing?" she asked finally when he stopped inches from her.

"This," he said simply before placing his hands at her waist and pressing his lips over hers. Stunned, it took Kate several seconds to respond, but when she did her hands fell against his biceps, she sank against him and—oh. Well, that was rather perfect for their first real kiss, wasn't it?

In their week of cohabitation they had certainly grown closer—and not just because she was helping him with virtually all his personal care tasks. Really, they were building on the preexisting foundation that was forged over their nearly four years of partnerships. Two people that were as comfortable as they were with each other who were put into any sort of cohabitation situation would have bonded similarly, but their connection was amplified by Castle's recent near death experience.

For the prior few nights they had closed the evening sitting side-by-side on the couch, each with a glass of wine, talking about their day or any subject that popped into the writer's mind. For those evenings, Kate felt no differently about him than if they were a couple. They felt like a couple. The only difference being that they ended their time together with a hug and not something more intimate. Now it appeared he was changing that and Kate couldn't say that she minded one bit.

"Kate." He husked when their lips separated. She hummed in response. Without wasting another second, he kissed her again, that time pulling her body flush against his.

That time with their lips broke she rested her forehead softly against his and cautioned, "Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Worth it." He dove in for another kiss, parting his lips around hers. Kate could taste the minty remains of his toothpaste and hoped he didn't mind the flavor of coffee on her tongue.

Consumed by their attention with each other, neither partner heard the sounds of feet descending the stairs or crossing into the kitchen. It wasn't until Alexis actually cleared her throat that the duo swiftly separated, embarrassed expression crossing both their faces.

"H-hi, uh, good morning, Alexis." Castle stammered out.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Guess I don't have to ask how you're feeling today."

Castle cleared his throat. "Um, no—I'm feeling fine, thanks."

Alexis picked up one of the plates of eggs and used her fingers to drag two of the bacon strips to her plate. Glancing between Castle and Kate she asked, "Do you want me to leave so you can keep kissing?"

"Wha—no. No. We're fine."

Alexis rolled her eyes and took her plate with her to the kitchen table. Kate looked over at Castle, who was looking at her with a sly smile. She felt her cheeks blush again and hurried to pour coffee for each of them and join the father-daughter duo at the kitchen table. For the better part of five minutes they ate in silence before Alexis said, "After school I'm going to go shopping to see if I can find something new for Gram's funeral. I know I don't have to, but she'd expect me to look my best."

Castle squeezed his daughter's arm. "That she would. Want me to come with you?"

"I don't think you're up for a shopping excursion, Dad. You should rest up for tomorrow. Besides," she added with a casual sip from her coffee mug, "I'm sure you and Kate would appreciate some more alone time in the apartment."

While Kate choked into her coffee mug, Castle insisted, "That's definitely not true." Alexis merely shrugged.

* * *

"So…" Rick began once his daughter had vacated the apartment. Kate stood in the kitchen wiping down the bacon griddle with a paper towel. He approached her from behind and settled his hands at her hips. "What's going on? Is this finally happening? Because, I've got to be honest with you, Kate— _totally_ worth having a building fall on me."

Despite herself, she let out a breathily laugh. She stepped out of his grasp so she could toss the paper towel into the trash and then she turned back to face him, holding her arms over her chest. In her mind, yes it was finally happening, but their situation was delicate and she didn't want to rush into anything—particularly not for the wrong reasons. "There are things we need to talk about, Castle, but I don't want to rush this. Your mother's funeral tomorrow, emotions are high and-"

He stepped up and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "Kate, no, this isn't just because of the bomb. This has been a long time coming. A long time, because Kate I-"

"I know." She cut him off, her chest tightening. She didn't want another confession of love for him in a moment when she wasn't ready. When his brow wrinkled, he left her little choice but to explain. "I heard you in the cemetery. I heard you."

His hands fell away from her body and he took a step back, his voice harsh, "What?"

She shook her head and turned away from him. "See this is why I didn't want to do this now – it's not the time"

He caught up to her and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. "Well too bad, we're going to do this now. When did you remember?"

Wringing her hands together, she shook her head. "I never forgot." For the second time, he dropped his hand away from hers and her stomach rolled in her gut. God, he was about to be furious with her and there was nothing she could do about it; she was entirely to blame. "I'm sorry I was just…terrified."

"Of what?"

She shrugged. What wasn't she afraid of? "How I felt about you. How serious it was. I wasn't ready to hear that you loved me because that's not how I do relationships…I-"

"Hide – you hide," he said for her, reminiscent of their fight six months prior.

That time, instead of fighting back, she nodded, accepting the accusation. Hiding was the Kate Beckett of the past, though. The Kate Beckett who had taken a bullet to the heart did not want to hide, but she struggled to come out from beneath the covers. "Yeah I hide. But I don't want to hide from you anymore. It's why I started going to therapy and-"

"Therapy?" He tiled his head to the side, clearly curious.

She nodded and as the tears spilled down her face so did the words out of her mouth. "Yeah. I've been talking through things, trying to get over my walls and closed-off heart. Trying to be okay with telling you I'm completely in love with you and not being afraid of what happens next…but then that bomb went off and the building collapsed and my whole world just stopped. It just stopped."

She could feel it then as she had before: the concussion of the blasts— _bang, bang_ —and the feeling of the concrete pieces pelting the SWAT vehicle— _thud, crash_. She could feel the reverberations against her chest battering her already fractured heart into smaller and smaller pieces. She still had dreams about that moment when the debris cloud cleared a she saw the building had vanished into a twisted massacre of rubble; it was and forever would be the worst moment of her life.

Stepping towards him, she shook her head softly. "My world stopped because you're it, you're the guy. I fought it so long and so hard because I knew—I knew that if we got together that would be it; you'd be the man I spent my life with and I waited for twenty-seven hours for them to pull your body from that rubble and for every second of it I didn't know why. I didn't know why I wasn't honest with you because we could have had months together. I didn't know why I was so afraid except that I thought being alone was easier. Being alone was easier than risking a friendship only to find that you couldn't put up with my insecurities or you didn't love me enough or… "

She shook her head, not even sure where the words were going, but she remembered that moment. Remembered her mind's eye projecting her future: going to work day after day, coming home to an empty apartment with takeout containers flooding the refrigerator. There was no happiness in that future: no love, no family—all because that future lacked him. "But then I never really was alone until that building collapsed and then alone felt so…" She couldn't even describe it; it was too soul-crushing.

Wiping a few tears from her cheeks, she looked over at him to see him watching her with utmost intensity, barely blinking or breathing. She took a shaky step towards him and clasped her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you; it was wrong. But I was afraid you wouldn't wait for me if I did and if you did want to wait for me you loved me more than I deserved."

The words almost startled her when they came out of her mouth. They were the ones Dr. Burke had been trying to get her to confess for weeks, but there they were, tumbling from her lips as evidence of her own fears and shortcomings. She waited—braced—for vitriol from the writer, but it never came. Instead, his outpouring was a completely different emotion.

"More than you…god, Kate." He gasped and brushed a tear from his own eye. Opening his hands, he gestured around the kitchen. "Look what you've done this past week. You took care of Alexis, you moved in here to take care of me, no questions asked. In fact I think I told you to go a couple times. You deserve absolutely everything. Everything."

Without wasting another moment, he crossed the small space separating them and wrapped his arms around her back. She fell against him, slipping into that perfect spot with her head in the crook of his neck and her arms locked around his waist. Her breath came in short, stuttering gasps for several moments as she forced the tears away, then she just sank into him and held on as the sand bags weighting down her shoulders lifted away.

Several minutes later, Castle slid from her embrace, brushing his lips against the side of her head he asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded and reached for a piece of paper towel to mop up her cheeks. "I think so…I think this is what my therapist would call a dramatic break though."

The writer let out a breathy laugh. "Seems appropriate, yeah." He waited for her to dry off her cheeks and beneath her nose before reaching out to cup her jaw with his hand. "So where does that leave us?"

"Well if you can forgive me-"

"Already done."

She smiled. "Then, yeah I think this is finally happening, but I'd like to take it slow. We need to get through tomorrow and then, once I'm back at my place-"

"Oh no, didn't I tell you?" He moved his hand from her jaw to snag her around the waist. "I'm actually not letting you leave now."

"Castle."

He shrugged at her warning tone. "Worth a shot."

Fighting a smile, she said, "I'll pack up my stuff tonight and leave after the funeral tomorrow."

His brow wrinkled. "Why…why would you leave after the funeral?"

She would have thought the reasoning was obvious, but apparently not. "Because you and Alexis should have time to yourselves—with your family."

"Kate." He gripped both her hips with his hands and gazed at her very seriously. "What part of the last nine days made you think that you weren't family?"

"Well-"

Before she could protest, he kissed her lips. "I want you to go to the funeral with us. And to the cemetery. Then I want you to come back to the apartment with us. And I want you to stay the night and then, if you feel you must, you can leave after that."

Seeing no room to argue with this plan, she agreed with a nod. "Okay."

* * *

Curled up on her side in the large master bed, Kate shut her eyes and hummed softly as she snuggled up to the pillow. The day had been emotionally grueling to say the least. Castle's speech during his mother's funeral had been both humorous and moving—not that she expected any less of him. Witnessing the writer break down at the gravesite had been heart wrenching for her, but she was glad to have been there for both he and Alexis. At the wake afterwards, she could tell the still-recovering man was growing weary, but he managed to greet each guest warmly and accept their condolences with gratitude.

That evening, when they'd finally made it back to the loft, Rick had asked if she would spend the night in bed with him and she didn't even consider saying no. They were, for all intent and purposes, a couple. She loved him as he loved her and they were about to embark on a beautiful and wonderful journey together—a journey she couldn't wait for.

A few moments later she felt her partner slide into bed behind her and settle his hand at her waist. She smiled to herself and hummed softly in acknowledgement of his touch. He slid a bit closer to her and his hand fell from the edge of her waist to the middle of her belly. He rubbed his hand back and forth against her stomach over top of her t-shirt for a few moments before slipping his hand beneath. Kate's eyes popped open, but she didn't say anything, too curious to see how bold he would be.

His hand splayed over the skin on her belly and didn't move for several moments so her eyes drifted shut again. When, almost a minute later, the hand did move, it did not travel northward as she would have anticipated, but south. His pinky brushed against the edge of her pajama bottoms and then crept beneath the edge. Kate's eyes opened again. His pinky was soon followed by three other fingers that drifted down over her cotton panties. Just before they reached the juncture of her legs she said, "What do you think you're doing?"

His lips appeared at the back of her neck before he whispered, "What do you think I think I'm doing?" as he slid his index and middle fingers over the crest of her pubic bone.

"Castle!" she scolded, using her left arm to nudge his away enough to remove it from her pants.

"Hmm?"

At his clearly amused tone, she rolled over on her back and looked at him over her shoulder. "We are not having sex." His expression fell into one that made it seem as though she had just canceled Christmas for the next decade. She shook her head, refusing to fall for any trap he may have been setting. "Don't give me that look. You could barely keep your eyes open when we got home from the wake!"

"Right. That twenty minute nap I took was in preparation for this." He rolled closer to her and slid his hand back towards her crotch, but she grabbed on to his arm.

"No."

"Kate."

She pulled his hand away from her body and grasped it tightly between her own. "Rick, I promise you there is nothing I want more than to make love to you, but now is not the time. You're still recovering and I do want to take things slow."

He sighed tragically. "Fine…will you at least make out with me a little bit?"

She smiled and leaned her body into his, bringing their lips together. As they kissed, she rolled even closer to him, sliding one of her legs in between his. He groaned and rolled his hips against her thigh, which made her drag her teeth against his lower lips. When she began to feel his interest in the situation a bit more firmly against her leg, she pulled back and skimmed her fingers through his hair to cradle his head.

Staring into his eyes she was reminded of the moment during the funeral towards the end of his speech when Castle mentioned that one of the last things he told his mother was that he loved her, a sentiment rarely shared between the two of them, but one that was warranted in that moment due to their fear and uncertainty. Kate was reminded of the last statement she said to Castle: a promise that she would get him out of the bank.

On that promise, she had failed, though that failure was far beyond her scope of control. She had promised herself not to second-guess any decisions or moments of that day, for with them she could drive herself to the brink of madness. She would accept that Castle was alive and well and they would move on together. Still, she could not help but think once again of how one tiny shift in debris could have given her a completely different ending.

"What's wrong?" he asked, presumably at her change in expression.

She shook her head. "Nothing…just the funeral reminded me again of just how close I came to losing you"

He nodded knowingly. "It's a terrible feeling and I'm sorry you had to experience it but I promise you, Kate, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me forever."

She grinned at the prospect. "Promise?"

He leaned in and kissed her. "Always."

* * *

 **A/N** : thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. i'm so glad you've enjoyed this story. only the epilogue remains and it will be posted later this week.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Ah, excuse me everyone, if I could just get everyone's attention for just a moment."

A hush fell across the crowd of thirty people gathered on the sidewalk, all of them focused on the dark suit wearing man before them. Kate gazed at him proudly, her arms surrounding a tightly swaddled infant. She had been hesitant to bring the little girl, for at just barely seven weeks old she did not have very much appreciation for being silent during moments of great importance. Castle had been insistent, though, and luckily, taking after her father, the little one could sleep just about anywhere—particularly against her mother's chest.

Now that he had everyone's attention, the writer continued. "I know this is an informal event but I wanted to thank you all for coming and joining us today. It's been five years since twenty-five people lost their lives here and there's not a day that goes by I don't think about it." He paused to gaze over at the trio of women to his left and smile at them. "I look at my wife and my daughters and I'm grateful to be here, but I never forget those that we've lost, so if you'll all now join me in a moment of silence."

The crowd reacted similarly to the writer: clasping their hands and bowing their heads. Kate smoothed small circles over the baby's bottom for the duration of their silent moment, but she needn't have worried; the girl's eyes barely even fluttered.

After the moment of respect, the crowd began to dissipate. Castle made his way through the group, shaking hands and accepting kind words. Kate trailed behind followed by Alexis and her father. One woman, a graying, hunched over octogenarian Kate recognized as the mother of one of the bank victims, stopped in front of Kate and cooed at the child in her arms.

"What's her name?"

"Lily," Kate said.

The woman rested her hand atop the pink hat on Lily's head. "She's beautiful."

Kate thanked the woman before continuing on her journey behind Castle. Once through the crowd, they stopped in front of the newly constructed concrete bench which sat on the street just in front of where the bank had been previously. Etched into it were the names of the victims as well as a plaque explaining the bench's significance.

Alexis stepped up beside them, leaned over and grazed her finger over her grandmother's name. "It really is a nice monument, Dad."

Castle smiled at her. "I just hope it's enough. I hope..." His voice drifted off as he gazed over at the dissipating crowd. "I hope they don't wish for more."

Kate squeezed her husband's elbow. The prior five years had been filled with many ups and downs for him with regards to the event that had nearly taken his life. While Castle was thrilled to be alive and began painting fantastical scenarios for what diseases their child would cure while she was still in-utero, he did continually struggle with the guilt of being the sole survivor of the event.

Almost right away Castle began working to gather contact information for the families of those who had lost their lives—even the bank robbers, who he felt still deserved recognition despite their involvement in the tragedy. He also looked into turning the entire site into a memorial, like a park or garden. Despite several years of work, and spending a significant amount of money, he was unable to get approval from the city; the memorial bench was the best that he could accomplish and Kate knew he felt it wasn't nearly enough.

"We lost someone too, Dad."

Castle nodded. "I know. I just wish…"

Kate squeezed his arm. "We know, but Rick, you did more than enough."

"She's right." Kate's father chimed in. "All these people here today appreciate what you did; none of them were complaining."

Castle nodded, accepting this answer, but still looking the slightest bit uncertain. He reached out his hand and placed it atop the bench, running his thumb over the edge of the plaque for several moments before they were interrupted by a young woman approaching and saying, "Excuse me—are you Richard Castle?"

Clearing his throat, the writer stepped forward and nodded. "Yes, I am."

She nodded to him. "I'm Jamie Kennedy. My mom was Vanessa Kennedy; she died in the bank."

"I'm sorry."

Jamie looked down at the bench and then back up to the writer. "I was only fifteen when she died and I was really angry when I found out that someone had survived. I didn't want to answer any of your emails to the group or even acknowledge that you existed, but now I'm glad you did because we wouldn't have this amazing thing without you," she said, gesturing toward the bench. Then, she gazed around the writer and looked at the baby in Kate's arms and smiled. "And I'm glad something good came out of that day."

Castle held out his hand to shake hers. "Thank you; thank you very much."

When Jamie walked away, Kate stepped in and pressed her lips against her husband's cheek. "See. That should make you feel better."

"Yeah," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "it does." He reached out, took the baby from her arms, kissed her cheek and cradled her against his chest. "C'mon, let's go home; I'll make everyone breakfast for dinner."

"Okay." Alexis happily agreed. "As long as there's no smorelettes."

* * *

 **A/N** : Thanks again for reading and reviewing.

Cover pic credit goes to: Poi Peterson


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